Poem: Who Cares?


Look around

among the desks and papers

where crayons fall upon the floor

to see our little babies

asking for so much more

Look up at that building

where laws and  freedom rings

and see the crumbling institution

where instead ego blindness sings

Turn towards the forests

so rich with birds and trees

and hear the sounds of engines

while watching animals flee

Stand by the ocean

so vast and so blue

instead it’s filled with garbage

and the whales now say adieu

Stand across from a stranger

whose color is not yours

no longer love thy neighbor

instead we abhor

Watch those who love the same

in happiness and joy

and remember not equality

rather marriages to destroy

So in the end

who really cares?

because a critical time is coming

where witnesses must bare

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Poem: Sunday


Waking up slowly

on comet-tails of gratitude

Counting diamond faceted blessings

streaming by

Cat purrs encouraging

eternal life

While quiet rain

soothes the earth

and brings promises

for a watercolor tomorrow

Poem: The Egg


I found myself a purple egg

under clustered chatting trees

Filled with birds

taking flight

for lands I’d like to be

They fly a thousand miles

through heights of dizzy air

And down below

I wander lost

on roads of dusty gravel

The dirt is kicked

and shoes are soiled

dry heart cracked and broken

But then one day

when hope was lost

and trees were silent cold

Upon the ground

below a nest

a gift rolled oddly near

The shape so smooth

its oval walls

and color lilac paint

What lives within this object

why did it choose to fall

A purple egg

left behind

when flock has flown so far

It gently seemed to come

to me

walking down this sandy trail

Left behind apparently

this treasure sits so still

Fragile castle what do you hold

inside your bony shell

Gently then I pick it up

knowing we are meant to be

Holding it in my tender hands

this purple globe

is life

and when it cracks and looks about

then we will both be

set free

 

The Pot Of Gold 


Any time seeing a rainbow it’s easy to understand why there are so many stories, songs and symbolism surrounding them. They are one of nature’s magical gifts. 

Created from juxtaposed light and the moisture after a storm, they seem to be the perfect example of yin and yang. One of those beautiful moments in time where it takes two almost opposing situations to produce utter perfection. 

Humans would be hard pressed to make this miracle. So instead we are in awe. Rainbows hold an almost mystical power over us. Appearing suddenly out of nowhere; gracing the sky with a blaze of color, then disappearing like a ghost. 

What did cave men think upon seeing this strange ribbon in the sky? Was it like an eclipse–the stuff of nightmares? Or were they too mesmerized by the apparition ? Maybe this is where the stirring of something greater than us began…

A rainbow can change a mood, bring joy when sadness was lurking. A rainy day will grab a slip of light and give birth to this arc of colors. If you catch it, are lucky enough as those molecules become prisms of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet…then you really have found the pot of gold. 

Poem: Turning


We are but a shadow 

Hidden within the folds

An outline of shape 

That no-one may know 

A tenuous meaning 

Fading from sight 

And where did we go?

 Drifting off

Into places unknown 

Those empty unreachable roads…

Or did we turn back?

Find phases of unforseen glory 

Blowing by

And waving to save our souls 

In this moment 

We are captured!

Diving furiously forward 

And on that beam of light 

We step out 

No longer gray and undefined  

We are color