My heart belongs to providence,
   as I walk that final mile

My footsteps bought and paid for,
  as I clear the last denial

My faith is bold and steadfast,
  as new rain begins to fall

Through the fog a horn is blowing
  the gate now open—Gabriel calls

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

My heart belongs to providence,
   as I walk that final mile

My footsteps bought and paid for,
   when I clear the last denial

My faith is bold and steadfast,
   a new rain begins to fall

Through the fog a horn is blowing
   the gate open—Gabriel calls

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
         From 'The Book Of Prayers'

A captive of your ontology,
  a tiger in a cage

Doomed to look with borrowed eyes,
  your life played out on stage

You pace the floor incessant,
  as anger builds within

And hear the distance calling,
  feeling trapped, an alien

Will that trumpet ever reach you,
  by whose Archangel you’re reborn

Will redemption come to free you,
—if Saint Gabriel blows his horn

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

His life spinning inward,
  to its center returned

A whirlwind of intent,
—through the maelstrom it churned

His end was beginning,
  as the last became first

All time banished outward
—evil Gargouille dispersed

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)

Married to introspection,
  we left for Paris

And with fools and dilettantes,
  got carried away

Living on melancholy,
  our quarter was poor

The Seine’s romance but fiction
   —our fantasies played

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

Married to introspection,
  we left for Paris

And with fools and dilettantes
  got carried away

Living on melancholy,
  our quarter was poor

The Seine’s romance but fiction
   —our fantasies played

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

The Lost Generation
  now lost online
  Paris, a web of postings

Its cafes are fed
  fresh verses unread
   —new Seines left overflowing

(Montmartre Paris: March, 2009)

There just below the surface,
  more present than you know

A prophetic Jeremiah,
  tracks leading through the snow

His message serves to buttress,
  those standing in the light

A pipeline to eternity,
—his vision gifting sight

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

Having too much respect
  for the language

Trying never to get cute
  with the words

Being too much in debt
  to the feelings

Writing only what was given
—and heard

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

My youth and virility
  left behind

The future-past
  now so unkind

All laughter dormant,
  children gone

The days too short,
  the nights too long

But words stay with me
  always will

Through light and dark
  inscription fills

If meaning suffers
  intents the same

New flowers distant
  old fragrance claimed

But memories call
  then call again

And often stay
  my dearest friends

The white smoke rises
  but just a whiff

These words as given
—my greatest gift

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

You flew in on a
  wish

And left on a broken
  dream

Bringing what I never
  wanted

Taking what I never
  had

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

Stopping just short of judgment,
  his mind took a leap

Whose soul rose as substance
  now ready to speak

Words before never uttered
  or spoken in vain

This acknowledgement followed
  crying out in refrain…

“The joy in the brotherhood
   all torment by choice

“To share in celebration,
   we alone can’t rejoice

“The critic inside us
   the judger of sins

“Is best left in silence
   till it targets within”

As time will remind us,
  and these words will recall

All biting reprisal
  —the coward’s downfall

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

Stopping just short of judgment,
  his mind took a leap

Whose soul rose as substance,
  now ready to speak

Words before never uttered,
  or spoken in vain

This acknowledgement followed,
  crying out in refrain…

“The joy in the brotherhood
   all torment by choice

“To share in celebration,
   we alone can’t rejoice

“The critic inside us,
   the judger of sins

“Is best left in silence,
   till it targets within”

As time will remind us,
  and these words will recall

All biting reprisal
  —the coward’s downfall

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

Scientific Discovery…
but one grand paradox

The Spacetime Continuum
  —contradiction defined

(Greensboro North Carolina: April, 2019)

You can listen with hope,
  or listen in pain

But listen you shall,
  as my words will explain

“You were left in a tree trunk,
  neither hollow nor full

With a decision impending,
  a test of your will

Your words will define,
  what you praise or deny

Will they now come together,
  in the truth or a lie
  
Do you burrow on blindly,
  or tunnel beyond

What your comfort will dictate,
  what the blackness desponds

One choice lands in darkness,
  one reaches for light

My tracks through the shadows,
  your fear cannot light

It’s down to that moment,
  one last choice that defines

Will your soul choose redemption,
—or stay hidden unrhymed”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2016)

The question outliving the answer,
  the chosen—their verdict was death

The prophecy destroying the prophet,
religion—its God to reject

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

She promised me tomorrow,
  stealing all my yesterdays

A future blackened with her lies
—the present gone astray

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)