By the shadowy waters of the lake in deep woods,
amid owl-calls and shrill cries of crickets,
and croaks of a hundred frogs,
a kindly form speaks a word to my heart.
Clouds blanket the moon from the cold that makes
stars shiver.  On receding nights a warm
corner to bury my head in, from
advancing grey-arms of menacing dawns.
An accepting hug melts all that bothered us bitter
through the storms that raged the night
over. This was all required to begin
over, the morning after. The heart feels
what ears cannot hear. Blessings that miss the eye.

Dawn
I awaken,
slowly, to a light cool falling drop of water on my cheek.
I arise from my soft, cool bed of leaves and pine needles.
Gazing through magnificent towering redwoods, I stand in awe.
The night storm has passed and the clouds part.
The last few falling raindrops race to the ground before the sun emerges.
Birds chirp in the distance to bring in the new day.
The air is fresh, crisp
Quiet.
I breath deeply.
Happiness.
Sun rays penetrate the forest
kiss my cheek.
Warm.
My castle of trees has many halls but no walls.
Towering columns
Gentle giants to watch over me.
I walk for miles, barefoot
On a soft carpet of pine, cool beneath my feet
I look up
gentle drops of water land on my outstretched hands
I reach a clearing
The sun is setting, falling asleep in his bed of clouds.
He bids farewell and goodnight, but to return soon.
I lay myself down on the ground beside the Oak.
The root is my pillow
Peace
My eyelids slowly, surely close as I rest.
The mockingbird quietly sings me to sleep.
Sweet, pleasant dreams, majestic forest.
Dusk


-John G. Thomas

We hit the prairie
with the windows rolled down.
As the sun started to set,
you took off your shoes-
your barefeet on the dash.
You lit a cigarette
and the glow as you inhaled
revealed marks of a very great adventure.

We let our hair grow long together
because it looked cool
when the wind
ruffled it a bit.

"I wish we could drive forever", you said.

I agreed:
We could have chased the sun for the rest of our numbered days,
because we knew it would be the only thing
we could hold on to.

Do not stand at my grave and weep..
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry..
I am not there. I did not die.

I move into some private space
looking for what brings me here
to this place at this hour
the church clock strikes midnight
bringing me out of my reverie
the last note sounds out across the green
rolling out beyond the sleeping cottages and farms
past the nearby meadows
over the silent flowing stream
finally fading to nothingness
in neighbouring valleys
outside I look up
brilliant stars shine down
on the dark unheeding village
I move on looking for what brings me here
to this place at this hour...