Sunday, August 7, 2016

Shadow and Light

Disappear
into the world
of our dreams,
my ethical daemon,
my spiritual healer.
Together
I am your poet.


Aqua Dreams

Under an umbrella tree
where rhythm in waves
of a jungle ocean
crash the shoreline
in hushed smokey foam
reaching for driftwood and stone.
I watch from a bamboo cafe
aqua clouds and shadow gold,
seeing you.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Our Land

Harsh and clear
wild geese cry
alive with sound
against subtle grays
in a low winter sun.


Friday, November 7, 2014

Finding Peace

Do not fear your past or who you are.
Forgive yourself and walk on.
Accept others, as they are

and forgive them
           all their wrongs.

for they, too, like you
                     are wounded.

Accept the world as it is.
Your restless ways belong to love.
The caring comfort God can make
will restore your soul in love.

In your deepest longing know
God can bring you home again.
I understand you can not see

this has always been:
         You are
                already
                        home
                              and
                                   have always been.

You may live your life on earth
You may even press for change,
risking what you feel you can
for yourselves and each other.

Nevertheless, remember:
     Your life's meaning lies
            in my love for you.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Snow Spring

A wind rocks early buds.
I wrap my jacket closer.
Through a damp chill
exhilaration smiles
- anticipation.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Wind Song

I sing crazy songs,
hoping all will hear.
Wind sweeps the shore.
Salty air touches me.
Green shutters slam
on a misty dawn.
A thick storm rising
cries a wind song
only periwinkles hear.

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Flying

I dreamed I was dead. My friend was dead, too, only she didn't know it. She still tried to do things in the physical world. She stepped into the elevator. I did too, to keep her company. Her spirit moved as if she still breathed. I had stopped all that. I was dead and knew it. We both remembered her little daughter was still on the roof alive.  Terry  frantically tried to press the up button. I could get there faster, because I knew I was dead. I passed through the elevator wall. That worked extremely well.  I was encouraged. I flew up through rooms and ceilings at an angle allowing me to reach the little toddler directly. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Going where doors and stairs would take me was no longer necessary. I had the power of speedy arrival. The tiny toddler played on the flat roof of our tenement building while I hovered protectively above, wondering. What on earth could I do now, if the tiny girl tried to fly?