Monday, March 27, 2017
Sunday, March 26, 2017
Pie eyed and mystified,
Watching the play from Plato's seat.
You took my hand and led me
Out of the dark allegorical cave.
Count me among the spectators,
Sand sifting through the fingers
Of both hands.
That gentle welcoming glance.
Overburdened fire quenched in the
First crow then gull now cardinal...
Poinsettia pointing to where the sun sets.
Just slightly to the west of me.
There, a new haven.
A song bird with eyes all aglow.
Nestle down beside me.
Teach me what you've discovered,
Let it not be brief,
Angles and angels
And clouds on the ceiling,
Where Muir burns myrrh,
And Frankenstein scents assemble.
St. Paul, thank heavens for these gifts,
My silent spirit has received a lift!
Saturday, March 25, 2017
The alarming sirens beckon!
All these names, faces, people and places...
Stumbling over numbers,
Staring extra hard at all the clocks,
Waiting for the time
I've been told I would recognize.
Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!
There it is!
In the trees!
Sensing all the subtleties.
Are we giving, taking, sleeping or waking?
What position are the hands in?
Reconstructing a lost fine art...
The gift of judging matters of the heart.
I saw a forest,
A single special tree.
I know I will leave an offering here.
Perhaps that which enchants the tree
Will bear blossoms or fruit for me.
I sit and marvel at how the breeze frolics
Through the bending branches.
I hear the birds sing.
I dance to the song,
The call of the wild,
Howling past my ears-
And I listen,
Should something click into place,
For this must be the place,
Yet, this is not my home.
A stranger in a strange land...
But the math adds up!
And in the dream I've been here before.
Guide my hand and guide my heart-
Set the inner watch and remember
When I awoke with a start,
At just the perfect setting on the clock,
That precise moment-
Time to embark.
Sunrise calling me to that familiar stream,
I hope if I awake, it wasn't only a dream.
Saturday, March 18, 2017
Watching it all go round and round
The carousel of the mind
The sickening hum
My tired whine
Thought I had a call from home
Just debt collectors on the phone
Reminding me that the prize is not mine
That motivation is hard to find
I try to keep my eyes closed
South Bronx parasite
Red white and Hoo Hoo Hoo
Friday, March 17, 2017
That faint orange line grows by the sea,
Over the houses and trees,
Pourin itself out for me.
The dark knight recedes.
Sleep is placed in our pocket &
We rush out into the world.
I would like to take my steps slow,
I have no knowing of where the current will flow or of its rate of travel.
I sit in contemplation,
Allowing this light to grow,
Awaiting the melting of the snow.