Water's Edge

I am drawn to moving water’s edge.
The mists of its cascades cool the heat of survival
The music of its movement replaces the din of worry and politics
The calmness of its eddies and pools both display and invite reflection
This is a place of meditation, a portal from spirit to self
I will be there soon

Listen

In the darkness
Not far to the West
A train heads North
Over the bridge; up the grade
Grimy and efficient, snarling along
An engineer says goodbye to
This village by twisting its tail
Sounding like a mutant harmonica
It emits warnings; notice
Never more to be
An invitation to adventure

The tracks are not able
To take me to something
I have not already seen
PBS, www dot et al
Have shown me destinations
Seen from ground level to
Miles above even the eagle’s eye

The chug of a steam engine
It’s high-pressure flute
Whistled songs of heroic effort;
The anticipation of vistas to come;
Ways of life experienced
With movement and color.
Rather than the alternative of
Grainy black and white images
Found in the newspapers
Of that simpler era

Simpler harder times then,
Adventure to be had; like it or not
Discovering our rites of passage
Show me a train with billows of smoke
Maybe I could be an inquisitive cowboy.
Questing whatever lies beyond tracks end

Wise Guys

A poem is a myth.
Words of the poets’ heart
Explained by the poets’ soul.
The poet explores intangible assets
Seen through soft creative witness.

The poets’ truth is a prophecy
Both self fulfilling and laid bare.
Unguarded self put forth.
A cloaked, judgmental Shylock
May easily harvest such feeble flesh.

Enjoy the poets’ journey.
This game is without rules.
Arrogant though they are
The poets mean no harm.
They speak a reckless, noisy truth
Yet covet quiet simple acceptance.

The Now

Ripples from the past travel forth
Through the present and beyond the future
Neither changing nor ending, always continuing
The only change the memory of their moment of birth
Let go of the past as it is immune to your influence
The future defies definition
Without substance and perspective
It is so empty that the ripples of the past are not seen
They only lap at the shore of the present
This very instant contains all there is
And all that yields true experiences
Touch it, embrace it, and enjoy the thrill
Now in this instant you can create, shape and start a ripple
Your presence will cause one regardless
So seize the moment at hand
This very moment is one of immortality
Such a moment lived returns pure joy

Dragons

Chasing dragon’s flight
Seeking the aerie of clouds
Growling dragons speak
Thunder moves the ground
Dragons spit white-light lines
Renting the gray sky curtain
Air smells of burnt stones
There’re dragons here.

A Poets Dilemma

There once was a poet from Nantucket
All his lines ended in rhymes
Leaving him far from sublimes
One day the words eluded
He risked being labeled deluded
Declaring, “ I must follow my bliss,
From now on, free verse it iss.
And yet to close this current piece,
I must rhyme Nantucket?”
Be careful now....
....Ahhhhh, Forget It

Take Care

Rest now gentle soul
Alone you have all you need
But feel the caress of those who care
They ease your burden
As you would theirs
Allowing is your gift to them

Heal all
There is no rush
They do not know time
Friendship grew at Spirit’s pace
From this comes the strength

Warmth surrounds you
Gently you sleep
Safely sheltered
Love provides the orchestra
Dream’s music sings

Be well

Warrior

On our behalf
The Peaceful Warrior
Goes onto the field of battle
In opposition to the demons
That champion and harbor
Both fear and doubt
They yield only to that
Which the Warrior seeks
Do not wish the Warrior luck
In his quest for truth
Rather wish him wisdom
No lasting peace has been won
With anything less than this.