How Do I Know

So what if the answer is fading away
As your voice resonates in the silence
I know the answer is alive, somewhere
Waiting for me to ask the question
The answer empowers and illuminates
And makes you a friend of mine

Atop the bridge and facing the sunset,
Ecstatic color dances on the river
The question forms, then hesitates.
It seeks the rhythm and the rhyme
Of life with which it fits perfectly.
I hear your voice and I know.

Power (Ode to the Prince)

Rage at the clouds
Defy the falling rain
Does your noise achieve?
Or merely announce
The status you think you hold
If you remain all wet,
Then we know your truth.
That the King’s Knight,
Is merely Yorick risen.
A father’s jester reincarnated.

Blessings

Mystery’s mists drift in circles
Within the eddies of my thoughts
Dissolving in the warmth
Of love, care and compassion
Shown to me by those nearby

Are There Any Cookies Left?

As I cross the threshold
Into the gray mist of searching
It occurs to me
My questions are more relevant
Than their answers
The why of their formation
Is often what drives me to seek
More so than what is sought

How Did I Learn

… love is best met fearlessly?
… I could write of tears without shame?
… Relationships are more us than self?

By doing them unconditionally,
Despite a broken heart
I have learned that
This is always our truth

Common Ground

The world does not come to me
Because I frighten it,
Or because it frightens me

The world does not come to me
While we flee from each other.
Standing still, paying attention

There we might come to understand.

An Invitation

An Invitation
The artists voice is born from
the artist’s character and integrity.
The vibrancy of the message,
and the vitality of the connection
with the audience, do not come from
Technical execution but the
honesty with which it is given.

And to judge any artist based on
lessons taught by others or by our past
denies our heart its promised opportunity,
and our soul its rightful journey. From
there we may even repeat a failed history.

Allowing new crops to find sun and water, and
the nutrients from the compost of past plantings,
bring fresh fruit and fare to the table.
Be bold and open, and enjoy the feast.

Good Day

Dawn’s vermilion brushstroke
chases the stars from the sky.
Dissolving as they flee the light.
This new light brings color
where dark veils fell quietly.
Nothing is ever lost
It is ever changing.

Cycling

           A Constant
            rhYthm of
           cirCles drawn by
two pedaLs joined
                In a
  SynchroNized
                Goal.