Sunday Fishermen
Sunday fishermen
Casting thoughts to sea,
Adrift in silent reverie,
Hoping the morrow affords
Another dream fill'd sea.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Saturday, March 29, 2014
The Green Lane
The Green Lane
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What fears did they know
Who walked this lane of green
Those far-off years ago?
What passing joys interposed
The pains that hardship surely posed?
What scant possessions
Did they love that robbers stole
Along this lane of green
That I now so wondering stroll?
Monday, March 24, 2014
A Moon Silver'd Sea
A Moon Silver'd Sea
A moon silver'd sea
A remembered me
A forgotten me
A changing shadow
On a silver sea.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
I Remember
I Remember
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I remember being twenty one,
Broke, no job to find.
I remember the fear and shame,
The invisible tomorrows,
The panic that raced my heart
Through sleepless nights
While I hid in my darkness
Afraid for the sun to rise,
Afraid for the dawning light
To reveal my fading life.
Things went well enough
After that time...
The world turned
And lurched me to a better place.
But I remember,
I remember too much
To shame a jobless man--
To blame the human heart
And not the rule of circumstance...
God how this place
Can hurt its people.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Occasions
Occasions
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Over the years
I have attended occasions,
Not really lonely or sad
But looking to be touched
By something,
Something to give meaning to living
Beyond breath and consumption,
Beyond the human immersion;
A song of Truth
With a melody to lift my soul
Among the eternal motions;
To see my moments in the cosmic mirror,
Not Man's.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
The Playhouse Stage
The Playhouse stage
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Where do I go,
How far do I travel
To find the places and people
Who visit my dreams?
Do they come here,
Do I go there?
Is it all as real as it seems?
Where is the playhouse stage
Where the plays are played?
Who writes the script
And tells the time,
Who appoints the place
Where dreams are made?
Monday, December 16, 2013
It Belongs To Them
It Belongs To Them
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It belongs more to them than us;
They rhyme with the wind and wave,
Move with the primal motions,
Each a dancer in the cosmic dance.
We have made ourselves outsiders,
Passersby watching without knowing,
Vandals of the cradle
Vandals of the cradle
With no ear for the song.
We think it is ours
But it only waits our passing.
And when we are gone
No anthem will praise
No dirge will mourn.
Click to enlarge
And when we are gone
No anthem will praise
No dirge will mourn.