Poem: To Those I Know By Heart


People are songs

melodic magicians

who orchestrate the chorus

of our hymnal life

Some drift out

in random times

where their notes are left

to dissipate

within the holy air

Others repeat over and over

stuck in the groove

the turning wheel

of fate

which plays endlessly

on and on

And there are those that

blast

loudly around our bones

only to shake us down

to listen for them

alone

quietly in the descending night

But

the ones that hum within us

and weave gently around our key

are easy familiar tunes

we will always

know by heart

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Poem Art: The Sentry


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Years of giving

torn from the skinned Birch

to carry others

across rushing waters

while naked the Tree remains

rooted

watching

as the world walks away

Not listening

to the endless clawing on Jesus arms

the sucking tendrils

that have grown up

twisting themselves around

the age-old rings of Her heart

Move on! Move on!

whispering through the thousand hands

waving goodbyes to those

that left her standing

still

and siphoning life from

dirty earth thrown down

around Her

Immobile

a sentry seasoned with sight

the beacon to set others

on their way

But forever bound and grounded

in the place she chose

to be born

 

 

 

Hidey Hole


We are all looking for our own paradise:

  • Heaven
  • Money
  • Love
  • Success 
  • Beauty 
  • Fame
  • Security 
  • Happiness 

    Maybe though, it’s really just hidden away in some hidey hole within us. 

    Maybe paradise is very small and very quiet. 

    Maybe we’ve been carrying it the whole time.

    And maybe it’s time to whisper hello to it so it can creep out and whisper back. 

    Just Right


    “In the right place, under the right conditions, you can finally stretch out into what you are supposed to be. ” — Lab Girl by Hope Jahren

     

    How long do we wait for the right place and the right conditions? It may seem to some of us that we take a long time to stretch out; that we spend much of our lives contorted and bursting apart just to come together again. I have.

    The right conditions seem to involve some sort of special magic; a particular brew that mixes together to concoct the spell where the microcosm in which we move feels easy and the skin that we wear no longer needs tailoring.

    Some folks that we meet seem to have been born with this magic as they whirl around with the twinkling Universe hovering nearby. But most of us aren’t so lucky. Some of us seek it, but I see now this maybe isn’t how it works. It may be more like how a seed turns into a tree. It’s just dumb luck. It just waits encased in its shell until all the conditions are perfect and then bursts forth into the world.

    But most don’t get this far.

    Maybe I’ve just tried too hard to make everything happen. Can I be more like that seed? Just quietly sitting on the forest floor gathering the magic conditions to crack me open. Will I be one of the lucky ones?

    And once I am that wonderful entity, crawling with life and fluttering with each breath of wind, my roots firmly reaching in all directions: then I will know I am who I am supposed to be.

    Poem: So Real


    Walking imagined 

    in paradise lands

    of well dreamed corridors 

    where truths are revealed 

    and grandiose bed fellows 

    are ready to woo

    with long wished word songs 

    given as tender 

    Where do they lead

    these grasped at beauties

    created and carved 

    from the stone cold wanting 

    The touch of their colors 

    and scent through the soul

    is so real

    so real 

    Living in drifts 

    floating beyond 

    It is Paradise 

    Paradise 

    and it is so real

    Duck Rap


    There are days where it seems obvious when the universe is speaking directly to us. There may be crazy things like a bird flying into our head,  which happened twice to my friend recently when a crow dive bombed him. Or maybe a group of ducks just walks right up as though you are a member of the family. No fear, just friendly carousing. 

    Maybe it’s the fact, try as I might to apply for jobs, nothing is happening. 

    I’d like to believe that instead of it being for the wrong reasons, there might be a more important one. And that these odd occurrences have significance beyond nature having fun. 

    It could be a wake-up call to pay attention to things we’ve ignored. A rap on the head as a reminder or the group surrounding you if only you take the time to stop.

    The universe provides plenty of advice, it’s simply up to us to listen.