petals
in the wind
floating gently
to their final destination
bloodred scarlet
already started
to wither
in the gentle
wind.

sparks
fly
from an explosion
sparks
turn to flames
petals turn to ash.

ashes
in the wind
floating gently
to rest
upon
a crimson
bloodred
flower.

Like a giant cotton ball
Moving at its own pace
In the giant blue ocean above our heads
Of many shapes and many sizes
Thick to thin
Streched and clumped
One color
To some
Making it like cotton candy
depending on the morning or night
An hombre of colors
Making them pop
As if in a pop up book
Light and white
Or darker and grey
Being filled with rain
Ready to cry on the earth
To water the lands below
Most times you are there
And sometimes you are not
But when you are up there
Floating around
Making shapes
I could sit or lay down
And look up all day

Floating upon the waters
has been natural for me
on my wavy journey of faith
yet for most of my life I have been moored
to one or another church or spiritual dwelling
and there in the six directions
of the medicine wheel
or in mindful silence and meditation
I found solace and inspiration
and challenges to be a better man.

Born into the Roman church
from a mother whose tie to sanity
was her rosary
each bead a knot
and the chain her bond to the holy.

Novenas, prayers, litanies, and creeds
became the native tongue
taught when we were young
mysteries and sensory symphonies
of the rituals filled us to the brim
spilling dreams and designs
for a special future
ending in the Great Upthere.

But a destiny of storms
awaited me on my journey there
as I fled into a barren night
a zeal and appeal of career my light.

Now in the lateness of life
I am again moored in a church
in love with several humble followers
of Jesus the Christ there
songs and Word and wisdom fill the air.
And back home I have my own medicine woman of a wife
a five decade anchor of faith
a vessel and fiery heart full of love.

So here I am no longer floating
or boating from one port to another
my friends are dying and growing old
my body battered and heart weary
but I am alive, again brimming and often teary
for God has taken hold of me
Jesus who hounded me has tackled this old fool
and the Spirit has chiseled and shaped a jewel
tenderized my heart with his reckless love,
his overwhelming endless push and pull
and with his merciful Light has re-created and made me full.

I wish I could remember
I really wish I could
The dreams I had
The friends I've lost
A reason to care
I am just a child
floating in an empty sea  
Not a care in the world
trying to remember
what I have long forgotten

Floating
In the water of life
Can you swim?
Or will you
S
I
N
K
?
Can you fly?
Or will you
F
A
L
L
?

Eyes are full,
hugging mine
held without
a touch.
Gravity keeps me
planted,
still,
floating-
a press of flesh,
a pull through the chest
magnets penetrate
deeper than skin.
a force unlike,
uncanny,
unreal,
floating-
but it still holds you close.