Wednesday, October 2, 2013

I Sometimes Remember


I Sometimes Remember


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I sometimes remember
A moment past
When rainbows ringed the looking glass...
A place in time
Wrapped with memories
Of fire chants and dancing shadows
Upon a moonlit sand,
When secret yearnings touched
Through holded hands
And our dreams we thought were dawning...

Memories of moments gone
Fill no more space
Than dreams of moments
That never came;
Both endure the passing days
But never ease the sorrow
Of the splendor that never stays.




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Sunday, September 29, 2013

Dreaming Down


Dreaming Down


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 When under the circumstances of living
Cutting winds of gray and cold
Rifle through and true my dreaming down,
To hopeful thoughts I turn
Where maybe when the world goes 'round
A dream forsaken
May once again be found.



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Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Happiness


Happiness


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Does happiness just happen,
Something you catch like a cold?
Or is it chosen,
An attitude or circumstance decided,
Like a flower you place in a glass
To color the moments that pass?
Is it a state that develops,
A pleasure that occurs
Instead of a pain,
An imagining in the mind
That's really not there?
Is it a possession acquired,
A capacity possessed
Like an ear for a sound?
Is it a distant sail upon a silver sea
That passes too fast,
A rainbow dream
That cannot last,
A hidden smile
That's now unveiled?




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Could There Be?


Could There Be?


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Could there be another me,
A living presence in another world
Just like me,
A reflection universe with replicas
Of what is here?

I would not escape my wondering
For all the gods declared,
No solaces divine can compare
To the freedom of my mind.

For it wasn't with the wheel formed
Or fire made,
Nor when grunts became a knowing sound
That Man first touched the sky,
But when his searching mind
First wondered why...

I want no easy answers,
Only mysteries placed before my eye,
That I may ever wonder why.





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Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Rainbows


Rainbows


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What a world this is!
Rainbows and waterfalls,
Songbirds and butterflies...
And a little girl's eyes.




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Monday, September 23, 2013

The Master


The Master


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I would be master
Of my fate,
But I find no helm to till,
No rudder, no mast,
No mooring line to cast.




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A Secret Sculptor


A Secret Sculptor


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A secret sculptor
Dwells within the sea
Far beyond the foaming waves,
Who nightly fashions
Finely forms of stone and wood,
Salvaged from their salty graves
To place upon the sea washed sand...
A gift for mourning strollers by the sea




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