The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

like the stars in the sky that I admire
every night and miss when they’re gone.

like the trees, so green,
that let me breathe more clearly.

like the vast, blue ocean I stand before
that satisfies my hunger for something beautiful.

and like the red, beating heart in my chest
you keep me well and alive.

honoring the glass artistry of Dale Chihuly

A rainbow of serrated globes,
Friends to the water lilies,
Floats in a sculptured pool.

A surreal yellow glass Medusa
Woven through a white crescent trellis
Gleams in the midday sun.

Choirs of chrysanthemums
Sing with multicolored flora
Blown from molten soda, lime and sand.

Sheltered in a geodesic tropics
Orange herons stand on legs of glass
Amid living palms, bamboo and wild orchids.
Towering blue spires
Lift skyward out of the soil
While butterflies dance
In the misty veil of a waterfall.

Nature and the shimmering world within
Happily converge in the florid vision
Of an effervescent man with a patched eye -
A man called Chihuly.

October, 2006

Watching a world of blues and greens
From a gilded cage full of pretty things
Sits a little bird with clipped wings
Singing pure and sweet to all who listen

From morning light to the dusky pall
The little bird perches, enthralled
New stories to tell, a new song to sing
Pouring happiness out to the skies

Perching alone in a world of grey
Singing along for every new day
Until the stars speckle the sky
And the little bird dreams
Of flying

You can find me in the quiet places
Where the grass shifts in whispers
And the lilacs lazily bloom
Embrace me
Seek out my secrets
Hidden memories and intimate moments
Hold soft, and turn them in your hands
Lying on the ground, speaking slowly
As though the day were endless

Swallowed by these empty promises
Choking on the bitter words
Sinking in the looming silence
Frozen by these empty hearts
Choking on distant memories
Sinking in the desolate haze
Staring through these empty eyes
Choking on the unseen tears
Sinking in the quicksand void
Walking through these empty rooms
Choking on the dusty air
Sinking in the heavy gloom
Alone, and empty