The Rounded Stones

The Rounded Stones 

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 They call them "Erratics"

As if their journeys were chosen,
Some aimless wanderlust
Within the stone;

The great rounded rocks

Rolled for a thousand years

By giant walls of looming ice,

To be left where they lay

As the frozen rivers thawed,

Dropped in a distant place

Far from their molten cradles...

A reminder that beginnings

Do not foretell our endings. 

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The Ropes Course

The Ropes Course

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I was carried so high

That day we climbed

The sun-filled trees

And saw beyond the filtered light,

Ourselves in golden flight,

Our wings afloat a gentle breeze,

Our Spirits freed of binding fear,

Our courage crested

By the will to be.

There is something special now
Among we who gathered there,
That place we found
To reach beyond our former ground,
To leave behind the we we were
Before we gathered there.

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It Is Not Love That Ends

It Is Not Love That Ends

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  It is not Love that ends

When togetherness parts,

Nor caring that angers rend,

Nor dying hearts that endings mark.

For the melody we deeply knew

Plays still upon the strings

Of loving hearts.

And when the moments

That memory keeps

Come passing through our thoughts,

We may live again a worldly love,

Though once before

It was found and lost.

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My Wish For You

My Wish For You

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May you walk by heavenly streams

And be washed in rainbow mists;

May your heart be filled

With all that wondrous seems;

And may loving's light shine golden beams

Through all the days of your living,

And the sounds of joy

Be the music of your dreams.

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What Matters Most

What Matters Most

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I cannot by mind alone

Appraise the great unknown.

Reason crawls astutely

But cannot leap the trails end;

Where mind forsakes the host

Begins what matters most.

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The River In Me

The River In Me

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The river in me

Has not one current--

Eddies and swirls

Distract the deeper flow.

Error'd thoughts

Erode the course,

Silting the shallow shoals.

Fickle beliefs

Deflect and waver,

Jamming the narrow bends.

But there persists

The seaward surge,

The stream of yearnings

Flowing full with loving dreams,

Waters healing the hurts of heart,

Greening the Spirit's eternal place;

Searching to find the me

Who calls for me.

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A Gift

A Gift

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Upon the journey'd path of love

We celebrate our heart's dear friends

And comely mates.

To reach our Spirit's shore,

And each the other

A gift of loving give,

Is the joy each moment waits.

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