"earth"
without "art"
is just "eh"

now with a seven before the zero
I know that I am still no hero
just lucky to have lived so long
     and happy to go on
     for many years
before they sound the final gong

unknown morning birdsongs
make me aware
I am not home

at times it seems
your future might be little else
but treasured memories
from your receding past

open the door, look outward,
let some light shine in
and remember

your life goes forward
not back

O Babylon! Your God is a sport-utility vehicle, a VCR, and a two-car garage!
You delight in images of killing and artificially-large-breasted women!
Your arteries are clogged with Big Macs and a thousand pieces of Kentucky-Fried Chicken!
Your God is Technology.  Your God is Progress.

Your skyscrapers rise to the heavens!  Your astronauts fly to the moon!
You clone sheep! alter genes! make a mountain into a parking lot!
Your fields flower!  Your grain-bins groan under the weight of the ripe corn!
But the land of your soul is a desolation.

O God of Henry Ford, the Wright Brothers, and Bill Gates,...
All the nations adore Thee!
(Pretty soon they'll be ordering Papa John pizza by cell phone in New Guinea....)
Your God is Mammon.

After the movies, after the Quarter-pounders-with-cheese, super-size fries, and a large Coke,
after the evening news, the Hostess cupcakes, golf, beers, and swimming 20 laps,
the hunger will be the same as the day you first felt it, O Babylon!
the thirst of the soul, O Babylon!

the brush creates
    in careful steps
a painter‘s vision of the face
lets eyes shine bright
    or filled with pain
the lips closed firm and serious
    or hinting at a secret smile
abundant hair, a bit, or none at all
large ears, or medium, or small
pale cheeks, or rosy, with a glow
firm chin, with or without a beard

few limits to the versions of the world
in the attempt to make
the portrait gaze
right into viewers' eyes
    wide with surprise

a morning breeze draws gentle ripples on the sea
    dancing and glittering in the sun
at times more serious wrinkles
on the puckered surface indicate
strong deeper currents down below
moving unseen

shaping the everchanging faces
of our oceans all across the globe
creating scenes of terror and of beauty
    leaving us breathless
wondering about the plenitude
    nature brings forth
    often in frightening abundance
that occupies our lives