By the few…

Something unseen by the many, yet

always seen and deeply felt by the few,

has suddenly become all that everyone can see-

the killings of Black men by police violence in America.

It flashes like fire around the shrinking globe

like lightning unto an epiphany, so many can suddenly…see.

For the few it has meant a blood-boiling fury

that melts the rock of resistance , and thunders in the heart.

It inspires rebellions of thought that spew

Through the hard crust of the world; a fire

That mere reason cannot contain, for existence

Is the imperative of life, and in this brutality

the already flimsy filament of life

is a flickered candle in a ceaseless wind.

It is, after all, the lives of our children hung

In this balance; the cruel harvests on hard Ferguson streets

Or a tranquil park in Cleveland flowed

In unforgettable red in Baton Rouge…the red that leaves

Fire in the eyes and a cramp in the voice.

Now, suddenly, everyone can see,

Through eyes that swell to verge,

For It hurt no less in Dallas; it is life-

in all of its precious forms and fragility-

And it is a terrible thing to waste.

from Orlando

In a soundless place

Where there is no need for air

For nothing that needs breathe can be

is a place where nothing changes.

Where we see the shape of angel’s wings

splayed across the face

of an endless sea.

Lost where walls of galaxies appear to disappear

like specks and motes in a beam, found

like the gentle drop of a feather,

the greatness of the spirit accomplishes

that which  men and evil can never do.

In the birth of eternal knowledge,

an Angel drifted here…from Orlando

missing…the words

Through a window
 I catch the blue night-

The bluster of a mild wind

Shaking trees and bushes into a rush.

It was a mere pretense

Of colder times
when I would find a still patch of air

Embrace a pocket of warmth.

So glad to be held

In the moment of a stolen comfort.

So it was this way with you

Every moment seemed

Stillness in a rush of wind

A comfort I could not keep

And tender because I knew

It was like the words we pressed

Lips to ear; a tribute to a struggle to be

And be near, as breath shaped

The bridge we could never forget.

Now, they are missing…the words;

We gave life, the words that kept us in

One loving sentence

on the Avenue...

 

The sky was so high
the rain could not find me
It was lost in winds and windows
Stuck on cold glass and curious eyes
That counted drops into tiny streams
The tall buildings
Arched into prayer arms;

Thieves of blue and gray.
They shortened sight of day
And in the surprise of dusk
The steady plop of drops
Coursed through the dinner crowd
As feet lifted and fell into splash and spray.

The night lit so bright
In white and red neon light
That re-glistened off wet streets
And curbs bounded ambitious young streams.

I stood in doorways and tucked into
windowed bays, pretending to read menus
and sample tortes with my eyes.
It was then that hungers begin to form
an ache… I thought
this is the moment she would turn,
wet skin, soaked hair ends; she'd send
that certain smile. Her lips shaped
the kiss that cured hunger; one that turned
cold, empty thoughts into warm companions.

a matter of will

 

 

Dream drops fall and splatter
into vivid traces of moments
some from familiar stock, others
complete unknowns- people I have yet
to see, things that wait to touch me.

I remember tremulous words about drops
things that fall repeatedly upon heart and mind
until, by the awful Grace...
Yet, I see the snowflakes too
and I know that there are kinder ways
to teach the most stubborn spirit
a Divine sight

Deep in memory, troubled times that fell
when my Dearests went away.
It was not so unusual the voices say
everything changes, lives come and
do not stay but for me, it was always
a matter of will

Bent by the blows the reed rises still
up with the next whim of water, the stalk makes
sail of the nearest puff of wind
and I grasp a thread on the coattails of eternity
because like the resilient reed and the flimsy stalk,
I know, it is mine.

Behind those eyes... (lyrics)

sometimes a cloud  in the bluest of skies
when there is magic and happiness in disguise
I look at you and want to know the mystery
you turn and your eyes uncover me

so now... I just wanna know
what's going on  behind those eyes
why do I fall like the evening tides
when we touch and realize
that together can be forever

So deep like the rivers that flow to the sea
carry the weight of things that used to be
I know the journey has been so lonely too
like the bank of the river, I was made just for you

so now... I just wanna know
what's going on  behind those eyes
why do I fall like the evening tides
and when we touch and realize
that together can be forever

what's going on  behind those eyes
what's going on  ...you just can't hide
the wonders  the fascinations too
together can be forever...with you

Late in '68

When breath and life flowed, so full of promise;
there were moments that seemed sudden, unreal.
When the ground beneath the feet
would fade away, and we were reminded
life is a reach to heavens from still wet clay.

Men with skin pale and red, warm and brown
with eyes that found the goodness of spirit
stepping in  the front of the march of humanity
toward its higher self.
The risky spearpoint of the army of life
these men, with words and deed endeared
and wisdom found in faith and callings
stood among us, shoulder to shoulder
love remembered ad fear forgotten
the memory seems nearer as time unfolds
the depth of touch- person to person
how the chain of life goes unbroken
even when stopped in the coldest day
For we go on, rich  in the knowledge
that they were here and... we saw
life in its glory, full in its unseen abundance