Autumn

The forest is a gallery
Where autumn blithe comes painting
With sweeping stride the countryside
And finds me there escaping

Summer wanes, my passion breathes
For northern oak and maple leaves
As red as life that pulses new within me

Verdure flutters from the trees
Like amber floating on the breeze
There never lived an artist so elating!

Shall not we wish eternity
Upon this forest gallery
While autumn still upon the earth is painting?

Let fall and winter never meet
When gold dust stirs beneath my feet
May time stand still
Before the trees are empty

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Remember Love

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Over the course of perhaps two years, the seasons (like my life) waxed and waned with inscrutable contradiction. It had remained warm throughout the winter that year, only to turn cold in the spring.

As occurs with many things, time at last revealed answers to the unanswered—another painful mercy. Yet for so long, it would remain no more than wistful memory.

~

I came here to remember love
The hillside meadow lane
To hillside meadow, I have come again
For I remember love

It was just here I slipped from shoes
And ran beneath his gaze
It’s overgrown now
Overgrown with weeds
But soft as vapor then
Like every glance

My hands plunge deeper
As the cold expands within
Beyond my pockets
It was warm then
But the season had to pass
Away, away

My thoughts fly through that day
The cautious carefree moment
Here we bowed
And here the sun set
On our lengthy earnest plea
Remember love?

A prayer unanswered
Not a prayer denied or lost
Just inexplicable
Like winter’s warmth
And springtime’s chill this year

Came not to question
But to reminisce
With grateful aching thoughts
And in the solitude of silence
Let my soul remember love

Contemplating Clouds

IMG_6301.JPGIt was one of those balmy southern afternoons, when sprawled in the park with my face to the sky, this piece of free verse was inspired.
My drifting mind and glutted senses turned as they often do, to somewhat ontological musings (for lack of a better term). And in spite of my finite bewilderment, these settled deeper and farther beyond the realm of the observed.
They are concepts and subjects so common, even reduced to cliche, yet it is the naked essence of these realities that boggle the pensive mind. And at the end of all analysis, one continues to simply sit in speechless awe amid a myriad unanswered questions which in such cases, somehow make faith more beautiful.

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Words?
Full of inadequacy

Silence?
Awed
Pathetic
Full of meaning
Lacks expression

What is prayer
When words are failing?

Sighs
Confusion
And my longing

Drinking in the atmosphere
The atmosphere, so near

Here am I
All solitary now
And contemplating clouds

I feel my nothingness
My worth

You left it all
And came for me
But what is heaven?

Finite mind,
You cannot grasp
You cannot fathom

Speaks of Love
So deep, so strong
Oh, what is love?

So near,
So far away
You dwell within
You reign

Oh, what is God?
I cannot know
I long to know

 

Earth and Blood

IMG_5921You are of earth and blood, dear friend
I am the sea and sky
Two worlds within a universe
One spirit and one light

How in this vast expanding dark
Did you and I collide?
With stars and dust and fire burst
You, beautiful surprise

You pulled me down like gravity
Your energy is mine
I found no road to run away
I had no will to try

Yet how could earth and sky be one?
The universe forbids
She snatches every wish away
Behind my dreaming lids

For forces far beyond my know
United long ago
To bring this fleeting dream to its
Inevitable close

Now earth gives way beneath my tread
And blood is running cold
I find no place to rest my stand
No grasp, and no foothold

The earth will soon forget the sky
It never fails to mend
The sea will bleed her gallons dry
Yet surge to life again

So lay your earth and blood to rest
In other arms of flesh
I’ll hold only the memory
of short-lived happiness

Then go your way without regret
I’ll only bear the scars
Sail on the Milky Way
And leave me buried in the stars

A Kind of Recovery

IMG_5909Your space inside is cleaner now
Cubes of cardboard neatly stacked
And packing tape

As fragments from the ground return
Levitating to my chest
And entering

Though maybe not in prior form
They’re taking shape behind my ribs
And thundering

My blood returning to my veins
Transform these wounds to jagged lines
Along my skin

With fingers pausing on the knob
Whining hinges hesitate
But yield at last

Your ardor and our history
Reduced to ink on notebook leaves
And postage stamps

Morning

I walked between the moon and sun
Before the break of day
And watched the painted sky converge
As starlight faded gray

The light of night and morn had met
Within the silent wood
Upon the river’s gilded face
Their light I first mistook

The rippling current twinkled boldly
But her song was mild
And so I paused, absorbed, entranced
And all at once beguiled

Poised on the brink of time I stood
Beneath the stellar dome
And pondered the eternal world
I pondered there alone

The newborn day had come to play
With shadows of the trees
Yet found nocturnal glowing eyes
Still peeping through their leaves

Anticipation quickened then
As time beyond me slowed
Still, drifting on a borrowed muse
With wandering step I strode

Still on and on
Beneath the mystic riddle of the sky
For nature ever stoops to teach my spirit
Through my eye

And often, as the morning breaks
I slip away to hear
I hear the song of final dawn
Where night will disappear

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