Listen

Listen

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Better to listen

To the silence of a setting sun,

To the early morning chill

On a mountain ridge,

To the whisper of a breaking wave,

Or an owl's evening glide

Across the shadowed meadow grass,

Or a river's fluid flow
Through an ancient canyon pass...
To the tears eternal beauty brings...

Than rhythmic words

And clever rhymes

That make no sense.

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Migrations

Migrations

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There are times that end,

Groups of years that mark

The migrations of a life,

From who we were

To who we became,

From where we were

To where we went.

A time ends

And we go on,

To new beginnings

And other endings.

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Sometimes

Sometimes

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Sometimes

There is no bridge

To cross,

No shallow bend

To ford,

No slack in the current

Allowing hearts to merge

Or minds to meet

Halfway

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Reaching

Reaching

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The waters of the sea

Ever reaching reaching for the land

Ever falling falling back to sea,

Like a yearning never reaching

What it yearns.

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Signs

Signs

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Deep among the mountain trees

The light of day was turning low,

Whereupon a glowing castle rose,

While the clouds of coming night

Placed sentinels above the forest road;

All as if to guard my passing...

Signs of more beyond my sight

Than ancient stones

And the dark that rules the night.

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How

How

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How can the fallen leaf

Reclaim the limb,

The wind unblow,

A bird unfly?

How the noonday sun

Recant its morning rise,

A life unfeel

A heart's regret?

How can a child unlive

The pains of neglect?

   

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Split

Split

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It wasn't that I knew

Where to go,

Only where not to be;

Not who I was,

Only who I wasn't.

So when I wonder

Who I am

Or where I'm going...

I'm just a wanderer

Who waits for time to tell.

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