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Life’s skies, beauteous,
Are ever morphing – but the
Ole mountain’s steadfast.
I must
Remind myself
Constantly—the beauty
Of life outweighs its …. And believe
It’s true.
In stark silence, the
Ticking sound of the clock made
Me ever aware
Of the fleeting moments of
Time, and its affect ‘pon life.
Losing Granny
Was the end of an era
In my life.
But it's been
Many a year now,
With lots of
Fond memories
To help bridge the gap.
Remembering her love,
Strength, patience
And courage,
Helps me to go on.
What a joy it is
To think of her.
Amazing the field of art.
And 3-D is breathtaking;
Blows the mind—literally.
Insane just for the making.
Although it’s an illusion
That I cannot figure out.
I find it remarkable—
Phenomenal’s the clout.
Perhaps you can check it out
To see what I really mean;
So talented the artists
‘Mongst the best i've ever seen.

3-D artwork where it sits
On Youtube. Or Google it.
Singlehandedly, he changed the world
With his giftedness.
And carved his way into our lives
With his geniusness.

And how should we compare
Such fascinating mind?
Indeed he was a genius.
He was one of a kind.

Despite his human flaws,
He made it to the top.
The incredible inventions—
Ambition couldn't be stopped.

Even in his last days,
He pushed, and pushed still,
Until his final work was done.
‘Twas such an incredible will.

And so, thanks to Steve Jobs—
A great mind of the day—
For his contributions
In a prolific way.

-Walterrean Salley
Peeping from beneath
The huge gray rock - a tender,
Yellow wildflower.
Tree after tree after tree stood bare
Robbing the landscape of natural ware.
But life for nature soon shall return
To clothe all that is naked and bare.

All things wintry are starting to slip
Sunshine and blue skies are on the mend.
Jack Frost is losing his chilly grip
As the weather pursues a new trend.

Snow upon snow ‘pon snow gently fell
But now it is slowly melting away.
Lovely scenes languishing in the wake,
As pristine white is spun into gray.

Soon the spring comes--glorious and brave,
As the bleak Winter goes to her grave.
(Revised 2/2018.)
Many a coin laid at the bottom–
Resting pon the fountain’s floor.
Large, small.  Bronze, silver,
I couldn’t tell, but there were more.
Gazing down into the water,
A longing face stared back at me.
I made a wish right from the heart.
Please, dear Lord, now, let it be.
I cast my coin into the fountain,
’ Mongst all the other wishes there.
It slowly settled pon the floor,
Quiet and still, within its sphere.
(4/7/18 revised)
Your beautiful heart,
And beautiful soul
And beautiful mind
Make a beautiful you,
Who touches
And inspires others—
Making them
Feel beautiful too.
I cast my gaze ‘pon the moon at night,
The heavenly stars are like birds in flight.
Ordained to shine in its orbit there—
It lends its light to the atmosphere
And brightens the skies in a fervent way
As the stars twinkle in fair display.
There are no clouds to hide the stars.
I can see Jupiter, and I can see Mars.
But Venus is the fairest of all;
Her brightness shines without a squall.
Poor Pluto is somewhere in the dark.
It bears no light—not even a spark.

Oh the tales the heavens could tell.
And that, the heart knows quite well.

© 2009 W. Salley
A flock of birds in flight,
Which had suddenly flown
From a number of trees,
Rose higher and higher
Like departed souls
Borne by gentle breeze—
Transcending the earth
And ever ascending toward
A place of eternal berth.
The prized blackberry,
Sweet and delicious - nestled
Amongst painful thorns.
They’ve held my hand and guided my way
And lead me down the pathways of life.
And what a case of  “patience” in truth
As they dealt with my questions in rife.

And now what can I effect for them
In the time of their ripened old age?
The wise who have been pillars in life—
What might be done to comfort such sage?

To pay a fond, warm visit in kind.
A card.  A call.  A letter. A smile.
Take time to hold a wrinkled lil hand,
Or  give a small gift every short while.

All the black hairs are become quite grey
Such folks are a grand treasure on loan.
And in all of our prayers for them—
May God keep them for ever His own.
A frightened dog was stranded
Upon a frozen lake,
The fireman then would risk his life
For the lil doggy’s sake.

The dog was coached to safety
But, then, the ice would break.
Fireman plunged to cold waters
Into the icy lake.

The doggy walked to safety
As the fireman was towed
And I was very relieved
As the tension lowered.

And, so, all did turn out well.
Both, man and dog, were saved;
Rescued from the eager grasp
Of an icy, bleak grave.
FOOTNOTE: Wow! This videoed story was well received. And the myriad comments posted were with blessings bestowed -- warming countless hearts as the heaping thoughts flowed.
To live another day.
To know God.
And to help someone
Find their way.
These are grand opportunities.

May each have the chance
To climb his Everest
And wave the victor’s banner—
Nabbing the opportunity
To overcome every challenge.
The clouds,
Like milking cows
Are ready to drop down
An abundance of rain by the
Pails full.
Orange, red and yellow
Against the western skies.
No, it’s not Christmas lights
But California fires.

Hot, like a raging bull
Emerging every bend,
Terrorizing one and all
It soars upon the wind.

‘Tis larger than New York
And Boston states combined.
The third largest Cal fire
Has yet to be confined.

The so-called Thomas fire,
Formidable at will,
Sadly has razed life and land,
And yet it rages still.
________________________
Note: Poem written on December 16, 2017, while California's Thomas fire was still raging.
© 2017 Walterrean Salley
I’d cast some bread upon the waters
More than a decade or so.
And now it has returned to me
From many a year ago.

From many a mile it came floating
Upon the peaceful waters—
At the time I needed it most.
(In chaos, life finds order.)

So ‘cast your bread upon the waters’
If you would so dare.
Somehow it will come back to you—
Some time. Some place. Somewhere.

Be it time, or talent, or finance—
Whatever you’re able to give—
Cast your bread upon the waters,
And trust God as you live.
(Revised 2018.)
Life’s sweet
Moments are too
Precious. There’s not an inch
To lose. Blink an eye, and you’re sure
To miss.
Christmas is but once a year
And what a magical time.
Hymns and kind wishes
As bells begin to chime.

A warm and cozy fire.
Pine scent in the air.
Billowing-chimney smoke,
Sending friendly flares.

Family and friends
Exchanging gifts and cards.
Cooking and Caroling.
Embellished house and yard.

Like the bulbs on Christmas trees,
Spirits are so bright.
‘Tis a time of miracles
As hearts change overnight.

Ballerinas dancing
And twirling all around.
Folk so amused
By the festive sights and sounds.

Then the snowman melts.
And '****! ' All is gone.
Ornaments rest on shelves
As life reverts to norm.

But the hymns and carols
Continue to chime on
With a message that's yet powerful
When the season is long gone.

Walterrean Salley
Because of Momma I know Christmas
She taught us how to celebrate
And tho’ she is no longer with us,
To be a part and undertake,
I will ever remember Momma
And will always appreciate
Her love for the holiest Season
And sincere zeal to celebrate.
FOOTNOTE: tho’ is the contraction for ‘though.
‘Tis a gilded history
Of such grand festivity

Garland, tinsel, tree, light,
And the holy hymns of might.

Sounding of the lyrical,
And a time for miracles.

Resounding nostalgia
And crowning regalia.

Island, land and isthmus
Celebrating Christmas.
Thank you Lord for Christmastime
A season of love and cheer
A time to give and forgive
And hold one’s family dear.

Thank you Lord for Christmastime
A lovely time of the year.
A time to  sing and worship
And to cast away all fear.

Thank you Lord for Christmastime
When hope is made so clear.
And faith lights the path anew
With a message for all to hear.

Thank you Lord for Christmastime
And may its truth forever chime.
Somehow, it seems that Christmas
Brings out the best in us.
Its aura and mystic has long
Been the main ******.

The mystery of Santa.
The angels and the elves.
The little Child of Bethlehem.
The presents on the shelves.

The story of the wise men.
The carols, hymns and songs.
The Christmas cards and greetings.
And the peace that comes along.

For, Christmas is so practical—
And yet it is so magical.

-Walterrean Salley
Winter.
Thirty degrees.
Inside peering out. ‘Tis
Cold. But warm inside. Thanks for
Shelter.
How disappointing
That spring’s in delay.
Punxsutawney Phil
Saw his shadow today.

The winter’s been harsh
On everything.
I yearn for release
In the mercies of spring.

Brrrrrr. Uggghh!
It's been so cold.
But a tad bit longer,
Then winter shall fold.
A flower in my
Garden was afflicted.  
Tho’ limp, its color reflected
Some depth and expression.  
Feeling pity…
I could not bring me to
Discard of it.  So, lovingly
And patiently I nursed it
Back to health.

Strengthen the weak.
Revive the hurting.
Conscience
Guides, teaching the
Heart right from wrong. If defiled,
The conscience malfunctions. So, keep
It good.

(9/16 Revised)
The cawing crow,
Object of strife,
Does have its place
Here in this life.
Its hue is dark
Its numbers rife.
It sounds of caw
And not a fife.
To the farmer
And to his wife,
The crow is but
A fowl most trife.
Long nights into nowhere.
The small hours stretch painfully.
Stretching and stretching,
As quiet reflections surface—
Demanding attention
And commanding the mind.
On and on it goes
Till, finally, dawn’s appearing.
Awake my soul and sing.
In troubles, faith seems
To grow deeper, as one is
Compelled by that which
Is seen to rely upon
That which is not seen for strength.
New day.
New things.
Night is passed,
Dawn’s now broken.
A new chapter is
Emerging.
Destiny awaits all.
Each one.
Whomever enters
Through life's sacred gates,
Has an appointment
With destiny.
She'll not be hindered
Or prevented by anyone.
May all find their way safely
To that sacred path,
Designed especially for them.
As age is realized, destiny becomes more of a factor
The sky
That gives us light
By day
Also gives us dark
By night'
Yet, we marvel
For both sights.
A mysterious
Delight.
I have read Your loving letters
Not just once, but time and again.
And, each time, my heart beats wildly:
Oh, Lord, my love—my God and Friend.

Incomparable to all things,
Beautiful, boundless and true—
Always assuring is Your love,
Encompassing every hue.

The Promise of togetherness,
As, longingly, my heart reads on.
For I shall see Your lovely face:
And I pray, ‘twill won’t be long.

For, then, I’ll be safe in Your arms
From this a world, so full of harm.
An opened door is before you
You have only to walk in
And discover your potentials—
All success to win.

An opened door is before you,
Which no one else can close.
Only you can shut it—
Despite the hindrance posed.

An opened door is before you,
So pick up your stride.
Arise and go forward,
Don’t stop till you’re inside.

-2012 Walterrean Salley
Happy homestead sits
On lofty hillside – hill came
Careening downward.
The only way to
Fully embrace today
Is to let go of yesterday.
One cannot look back,
And at the same time
Successfully move forward.
You cannot be in the present
While simultaneously
Dwelling in the past.
Oh love so heavenly and true,
How beautiful You are to me.
Fairer than the glistening stars
Or rolling hills, river and sea.
My soul is drawn enchantingly
Oh love to whom my heart belongs.
All mesmerized, and faithfully,
I sing to You this lover‘s song.
A love for all eternity
And not just for a thousand years.
‘Yon life and death—all that befalls
Of sickness, health, joy and fears.
This dowry of a song, so pure,
Is for my love—long to endure.
© 2015 Walterrean Salley
Miracles happen
Every day
To many a folk
In many a way.
They’re not hidden
Beneath a tree,
But manifested
For all to see.

A mother giving
Sacred birth.
A flower shoots up
From the earth.
A wanderer
Who finds his way.
A survivor
Sees another day.

A beggar gets
His next meal.
A patient that’s
Completely healed.
The ocean with
Its shades of blue.
The sky with
A many hue.

Everywhere
And every day,
Miracles happen
In every way.
You don’t have
To travel far—
Just look around
And there they are.

2012 Walterrean Salley
The highly-charged-festive spirit
Of Christmas all aglow.
Food, garland, gifts and lights
Songs and trees, the whole show.

Orchestras and cantatas.
Heav'nly bells sweetly rung.
Fife, cello, mandolin, violin.
And lovely choruses sung.

But the carolers, now, are silent
The ornaments are on the shelves.
All the gifts are opened
There’s no more need for elves.

The candles are blown out
And the gleaming lights unplugged.
The heavenly bells sit silent;
Gone is the Christmas bug.

Decorations all packed up
And the tinsel taken down.
Stores remove their displays.
Family has left town.

The Christmas Season’s over
The festivities are done.
‘Tis time to leave the Arena,
Ahh. It’s time to move on.

Though life reverts to normal,
Still, keep the Spirit alive;
Remember why we celebrate.
Let Christmas ever thrive.

(Revised 12/2015)
Some things
We’re bound to know
Experientially,
Tho’ good, bad, happy or sad it
Might be.
'Tis a wonderful fellowship
Sharing things that matter the most.
I am one with the One I love,
And my joy is forever full.

Walking and talking with my Savior
The path emblazoned with His love.
How gloriously radiant;
Footsteps pristine and garments pure.

Hearing His ensuring voice.
Learning of His amazing ways.
Growing deeper in His love,
Savoring such promising days.

And leaning ‘pon Him as we go,
There's so much more I need to know.
The ferocious winds    
Flew and blew, whirled and howled – then
They gently whistled.
#Wind  #Haiku  #Storm
Early dawn has opened
her sleepy eyes with the
bright promise of a beautiful
new day.  She peeps over
the hills and touches the sea.  
She kisses the flowers with
her sacred light.  She forms
shadows.  And touches the
birds as they awake to sing
a new song.  The first light,
She is dawn.
If I should ask “Does iron float?”
One would reply, Oh no!
But truly, such was the case
Thousands of years ago.
You see, a borrowed axe head
Fell into a river
Down, down. Way down it sank
With no means to deliver.

Prayer was offered for the axe,
Which soon went a floating.
Then some hooked and drew it in
A wonder worth the noting.
And so the axe was returned
To its rightful owner
But only with a twist of fate,
It’d had been a goner.
A biblical account.
Incoming ocean
Tides.  The marshlands enjoyed a swim -
Roads winched with flooding.
Tiny little inchworm
Moving right along.
But then came a bird
To rob him of his song.
A beautiful sonata
Comes to mind in much duress.
Winged its way into my heart,
Relieving of no small stress.

‘Tis rhythmic in its affect.
The melodious little bird
Spins such lovely harmony—    
The best my heart’s e’er heard.

A calm has swept over me.
And so, to end this cantata—  
Kudos in the highest notes
To honor such sonata.
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