The cherry trees dance while blossoms fall,
as if heavenly angels have come to call-
And willing winds fly through dogwood trees,
their leaves dotting landscapes from the breeze.

Occurring in a dream-filled land,
of poets and prophets in glory's stand-
And gardens overflow with daffodils,
waving yellow flags from giant hills.

The fanciful birds fly off to greet,
in sunburst's skies of colorful treat-
And rainbows carve their way to gold,
a cherished reward for both young and old.

Delicate as these blossoms may be,
their worth is greater than that of the sea-
While continuing to shed fragrant melodies,
and revive the Springtime's reverie.

a candle
 burning in daylight
 still giving off heat,
  but no longer needed
  to be seen.

a river
 forgetting its name
 as it enters the sea.
not lost
  just larger.

a breath
 held so long
 it forgets who exhaled.

the silence
 inside a cathedral
 after the choir has left
 still echoing
 with something sacred,
 but unclaimed.

a shadow
 that keeps dancing
 even after the dancer
 has left the room.

You don’t have to erase the self.
It erodes on its own
  in the presence
    of real seeing.

You are so precious—
like the tears I try to hide
when joy overflows
and my heart opens wide.

You are so precious—
like a rainbow in the sky,
when the sun breaks through
and the storm says goodbye.

You are so precious—
like sunshine’s gentle rays
warming frozen hearts
on cold winter days.

You are so precious—
like the tender gaze we share,
when words fall away
but our eyes still care.

You are so precious—
like the laughter of a child,
pure and bright,
glowing with a light so wild.

You are so precious—
like a kiss upon the brow,
where souls softly meet
and time forgets to bow.

You are so precious—
like the breath I take each day,
quiet, unseen,
yet keeping life in play.

sunset settles behind the trees
and the mayflies rise from the creek
to touch the water to deposit eggs.

the mayfly lives a day, a single night

and in twilight's glow
they rise and fall
in a delicate ballet
to caress the water,

this romance with flowing water,
so brief, so beautiful.

I'm skipping stones across the lake
with my eyes closed
and now I can only see you
in a drunken dream.

I'm searching for the lost song
and the melody I knew
before your eyes had died.

the words I didn't say.
the strings of the lost cords
seated in sorrow, sometimes joy,
lost in tomorrow's rain,
found in a photo alblum.

the thinly stretched cords in 1/4 tones.
the rhythms from your heart beating.

the tender touch of vibrating strings.