Layer upon layer the act of love
Become like the comforting warmth of a bed,
A sheet, a blanket, a comforter on top. Piled high!
Acts of love build within us the very knowledge
That, yes, indeed we are cared for.  We are loved.

If we pick something apart
Can we really love it?
Do we throw out
That part which is picked apart?
Can we really claim love complete
from the start?
If we love, truly love,
The substance of a thing or being
We must love
The ins and outs, the very fabric,
The whole of the thing,
the who of the person.

You seek to go,
up and up.
So, I let you decide.

You go your way,
up and up,
I just watch you,

And enjoy the ride.
Up and up
You strive to new heights.

You stand
Gathered together,
The lines of your branches,
The ink of your markings
Standing out.
On your white paper
I will fill your book
With beautiful poetry.

Written in 2014
(Dedicated to the memory of my Daddy, Dan A. Hacker, Jr.)
The heartbeat grows before we ever arrive;
Finally, the tires crunch on the briny soil as we pull in.
Daddy walks around and opens the door for me;
He is wearing his sliver aluminum hardhat;
I slide down the seat and clumsily out of the truck.
The heartbeat is overwhelming now,
Too loud for a human voice,
Provided anyone was inclined to speak;
Daddy is already checking gauges.
The smell of shell and oil and salt and gas
Blend into the cologne, it is the scent of my daddy.

In "a home", on hospice care at 85, I peek in on Mom:

Perhaps my mother was having a good dream.
Maybe she was on a horse or playing her piano
or running through her childhood pastures.

We have our dreams, which sustain us through life,
Even to the end. I couldn’t bring myself to **** her from them,
So I left her sleeping.

31,025 days of life come to a close.

there is wonder of all kinds
never boring

beating my wings
moon over life

It is here that I feel!