Dreaming Of Colors

Dreaming Of Colors

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There is a toll that's paid

For dreaming of colors

In a world of gray;

A world
That breaks the pottery

And hardens the clay.

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Pastness

Pastness

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Moments flow by

Like molecules of water

Rivering to the sea...

Is there a great sea of moments past

Where time that was remains,

A vast pool of pastness

Beyond the reach of memory,

Beyond the reach of knowing...

Where dreams that died

Still drift upon the mourning tides?

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Winter Shades

Winter Shades

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My Spring thoughts

Came in the late days of Summer,

And now Winter shades

Even the golden rays of Autumn.

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There Always Comes A Time

There Always Comes A Time

                                                           

There always comes a time

To break camp,

To douse the dwindled flame

And load the wagon.
No parting word or sign,
Only scattered ashes
And wagon tracks

Heading toward the next row of hills...

Where waits beyond,

Another morning meadow
Newly cast in green,

With wild flowers filled.

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Train

Train

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Time is a train of days,

Carloads of used moments speeding by,

Another and another and another,

Clickety-clacking over a cliff

Tumbling to an abyss of yesterdays.

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Ten Million Years

Ten Million Years

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Will this mountain stone

Where now I rest facing the eastern sky,

In ten million years

Still warm to a rising sun,

Will the meadow flowers in Springtime bloom,

The white puffed clouds still drift a sea of blue,

Will the rivers flow with waters clear,

Will the son of man still be here?

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Finding

Finding

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 Time will wash its whiteness

Across the colors of our pain,

And fade in pale shadows

The pleasings that we've known,

And rob the gains we've gathered

In our private stores,

And ware to scattered sands

Our carvings made of stone,

But love will last of all,

The simple finding for our hearts

A home.

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