.
1
Light on leaves is sometimes cold,
There is a season that shivers
And bird song is lost, vanishing,
Wind through the trees.

2
Rains travel to roots through grass
And leaves, left by the wind,
Handed from the sky, when time
Has left what becomes foretold.

3
The sun is a river of light in cloud,
Burns the waters into breaking
And the earth swims and cries,
The reverent trees have open arms.

4
One day in the spark of the bud,
The fires of bloom paintscent,
Birds do return, to seed in branches,
Sing their songs of renewals.

5
The forest new is blessed and green,
Creatures nesting in the deep heart
And rivulets rill down into earths,
Wind through the trees.

Yesterday came back to me today.
An old lover called to say a hello
And say how much our love
Meant to him so long ago.
It’s especially meaningful to me
That he would call this way
Because I look back to him and see
The beauty we felt in a long ago day.

And that it still meant something
The same as it does for me,
That love and our closeness
Was more than just a memory.
It happened at a time when we
Both needed a boost in our hearts
To let us both see that love could start.

And we both needed that so much
Because we had fallen into doubt.
Being close, touching and loving
Let us bring those feelings out.
They were suddenly out in plain sight
So they could no longer be denied.
We took a chance and fell in love
And set all our fears to one side.

Not, it did not last forever, then
We both later moved on to learn
There is more than one place
That a warming fire can burn.
But apparently it was strong enough,
That feeling we felt back then,
That neither of us were afraid
To begin to love again.

You cocked your head to the side,
smiling at the sight before you.
This meant you were happy.
Or amused.
Or in love.
Or all of the above.
You hold the world with a laugh.
What could he not grasp?
What he lacked was tact.
The commitment component.
He let you go for a moment
of what he believed was relief.
He was running from himself.
You were running from your grief.
A dead doll replaced you.
Shake your head in disbelief.
A dead doll couldn't face you.
She could not speak.
She should not speak.
If she wishes to keep her voice.
You'll strip her of her dreams.
You'll strip her of her choice.
Just like she did you.
The decision was made.
He'll fall away.
He'll fall away.
You'll run too far.
The moment was too long.
What he did was too wrong.
There's no flying back.
The cloud has now gone.
You're to smile to the masses,
and pretend you are strong.
Kiss your new grasses,
sing a new song.

My Seasons of love

*The cool winds of the Rockies
sent a chilling snow covered winter.
For me the pristine Canadian snowfall.
Was a season of joy and love.
In our small cabin my love and I.
Filled our needs in each other.
Me fat with hope and joy
and you my sweet baby girl.
With the late spring of the mountains
everything was sown for summer.
But you were here with the new lambs.
We celebrated life’s renewals together.
The animals and me.
It fills me with amazement the newness
of the earth in the cool spring days.
I shall cover myself in warm blankets
In another far off winter
another season of love.
And I shall sow once again.

Scatter to me to wind
let me float along
the breeze
and travel where my body
stunted
could only dare to dream

Let my loved ones feel me
not just somewhere
but all around
not sitting dusty
on a shelf
Nor buried within the ground

Let me travel distant hills
and glistening valley streams
let me walk upon a sandy shore
Catching waves like tumbling dreams

sunrises and sunsets
dusty outback road
I'll tumble with the wild ****
unto a fresh green lawn
just mowed

Let me whisper the
I love you
as I did each and every day
let me curl myself around you
with the butterflies
at play

Let me swirl beneath
the old oak tree
the one with the tyre swing
and let me watch the children
laugh and play
and join them as they sing

Let me dance between
its bright green leaves
let me climb its weathered
bough
travelling free like a bird
through the here and now.

Let me cast no shadows
let me feel torrential rain
let me float along a
Summers breeze
until we meet again.

his old arm points west,
so weighted with years, his crooked
finger aims down, to the cracked ground
more than to the setting sun

thrice in eighty plantings,
he's seen these droughts drench
the thirsty earth with white fire
but this one, he swears upon
creation, is the worst

holy houses fill with prayer
for rain--the man says this is in vain,
though the good lord hears all entreaties
he has always been miserly
with his mercies

this shall pass
he avers, but he doubts
he will see another warm summer rain
his baptismal to come as wind
from the scorched plains, one
that scatters but dry seeds for
tomorrow's harvest moons

Quiet little One...
No longer must you cling
To those clamouring,
Corrosive thoughts of old.
Accept that We Were
All born yesterday.
And again today...
And in every passing hour.
So even Now,
Our spirit pulsing with the Moment.
Breathe as the sky breathes...
One continuous sigh of Completion.
A subtle forward motion;
Effortless, attentive,
Unpolluted in contentment.
Arm yourself with joy,
Infinitely beguiled by life,
This plethora of blessings;
Never ceasing to revel in a Common state of wonder.
Your awkward smile,
Your broken shine,
Your gentle sorrows;
They light the candle
Of your eye; becoming
Amplifiers of your beauty...
Sparkling rays of laughter,
Tossed like tinsel,
Across each heartfelt Conversation.
Waken to the embrace of
Human error;
For both Comedy and Tragedy
Are remedies we share.

A chill wind
prepares the land for sleep
snow-weighted clouds
brush golden-stubbled wheat fields
and bare clotted earth
laid out in heirloom patchwork
stitched from lean and bountiful years.

Poplar trees
arranged in perfectly
contoured lines
resist enforced conformity
their flaming arms
reach for each other
tangle and entwine.

Here,
good souls touch down
like wind-blown seeds
from distant lands
of sunlit love
fading purple twilight
and midnight blackness

gently settling
in fertile, protected hollows
where possibilities rest
and winter-over
awaiting the time to wake
and begin anew.