Winter...

When the Sun forgets its distance
and gently warms winter air,
we remember the feelings of spring
and the swell of the earth in a day
it reaches in need to seed tomorrow.

When the streams bring cool sweetness
to arouse sleeping grounds,
an unfinished symphony : the cycles of life, resumes
with downward whoosh of gentle winds.

 Awakened from a subtle sleep, as if
barely parted eyes yet glimpsed all turnings
of wintry ways and chilled days,
in wait of the moment she lifts her cheek
to the full kiss of warmth;
to revise the vision of near-sleep and wishes.

So like me, to suddenly see
why so many wonderful dreams
need you... to breathe

The Vanity Trap

 That you please me,

captures every prescient being

allure of a mirror of choice, a craving

for the taste of love.

The trap that holds and wont let go

for it is not merely a matter of will

it is also the want and the magic

taste of love

When you were a vanity of fire

I was the moth circling

mysteries within fascination,

a fascination within a dance of light

I had forgotten how warm

darkness can be, how tender

a cold night’s search

for more that we could wish,

and that somehow together we found

the taste of love.

for Jim...

There is a poetry of repetition
of things we learn to care
the pleasantness of sunsets
dawns' that will ever be there
for we cannot imagine truly
one could be the Last

The world goes on in thought and fact
and though we fail to act to make it so-
on it will go, with  mankind in tow-
reluctant or eager, it matters little
so brittle and fickle- we, noisy we

The poetry of repetition rises thus
from us to the God we wonder
cloaked in  chance of happiness
a dance of empty-arms and shadow
until we truly open possibility
learn that which Life can be
 gather faint verse into a song... poetry
the joy of repetition follows,
a Life-time long


Happy Birthday Jim...hdm

pebbles

Follow vapor-ed breath to low in the east
bright planets light  the arc of night
at the bend of world and sky

we share the beauty of dark and sparkle
stars and other worlds gleam, so little
to concern within the vastness of this presence
puny mankind and the greatness
within its hopes and sorrow

We stand for such a short time
under the radiant depths of the ceaseless sea
carried on an unerring stream of time

A song that rises from our lips only to fade as we-
such momentary beauty, we - and such leavings
of good undone, a bubble in the  vast expanse
can be for naught or much and we depend

on the lives we touch whether
we were meager or much
for even mere pebbles when
strung together make a place to stand

A Star to Follow...

The power of love celebrated

as birth of a child

in wonder of stars and earthly hosts—

noticed amid so little care of life  

that Life was the focus, and creation

of Love the goal—a flock  of souls adrift

left to crash upon rocks and shoals- found

a sudden shepherd.

 Walked among them a call

to something shared within each

a patient teaching, a purposeful reach

to the Sun

We live the miracle to this day

a far removed time still speaks the name

expresses happiness for a cause of mankind--

that man can be more kind, as this man

Whose steps made but a tiny circle

Whose words never cut stony Earth

but endure as little else has, a seed

that made fallow ground to turn;
 light in slow-crawl across time to now.

It lives a life peculiar to truths...above

the petty drag of days, and frayed tongues of doubt

to speak to the heart of the heart

in the voice of the spirit, to dare

hope, to risk loving, to defy the call to self

to exalt the purposes of compassion.

It is only the heart that finds a star in the east...

to follow  

como o mar

Love is the mystery of the seas
it keeps all things
and surrenders all things...in time.

Lovers walk the shore
amid relics of an unbroken cycle
and cast eyes unto the curl of the world
send dreams into a deeper sea teemed in stars

and we are like the sea, Lovers
keep and surrender, in mystery

sung...

I cast my love upon the face of the sea

my faith in tides and

winds I cannot see but

feel

for even thrown into emptiness

love remains, after time has withered it

into a seed. it remains, and waits

until the sweet season   

even of the fallow ground...

there is a sweet season