It all looks so pretty

It all looks so pretty

Until you look close.

Then the cracks, crevices

And pores appear,

Collecting the detritus

Of your life, the

Dust of shed skin,

The story lines deeply etched,

Telling all,

That went before.

It’s all so pretty

But the beauty is only revealed when

You look close, too. 

The First Morning

Isn’t this the first morning

When the first sun rose

To wash my childish face?

Isn’t this the first time

I sat, still, in this place?

Isn’t this the first line

That spoke to me of grace?

Take me, wake me, shake me;

Sing the first song,

While the memory of ecstasy

Carries me on.

Surprise, Surprise

Surprise, surprise, sweet girl,

The breath you pull in and

Push out doesn’t have that

Automatic glow you wanted.

It carries darker hues

With it, in and out;

Did you think the dark

Side would disappear

Just because you

Closed your eyes?

Meditate this, darlin’,

What is, IS, in this moment.

Change won’t come out

Of unconsciousness.

Keep your eyes open or

Risk surprise. 

Arguing With Myself

Arguing with myself

Is a useful way to

Dance between two

Roads I walk but

Can’t commit to without

Splitting into 

A money machine wanna be

And a lover of the divine Goddess.

Even an electron

Remembers where its’

Parts go, and so I

Am having trouble being blind

To the doings of my

Left and right lives.

An Easy Promise

I wish I could promise
To not change,
But the cells in my body
Keep dying, leaving progeny
In their wake.  Do you
Think I can make them
Be perfect copies of those
Who came before?  
When you figure out how,
Let me know, and
I will go back to what
I was before.

A Weightless Heavy

I’ve gone in to the night

And come back with my

Dreams in a knapsack

That, weightless as a result,

Carried me into the heavens.

Yet what could be weightier

Than a dream unfulfilled,

Or a day without something 

Done that wasn’t pre-planned? 

Carry me again into your

Deepest sleep and I will

Promise to be faithful

To my heart.  

The Ducks

I like to walk around the pond

Watching the ducks dance

To the rhythms of a tune

I cannot hear.  I only

See the steps and hear their  calls 

As the music rises and falls.

Now a pair swooping in,

Planing to a stop like a

Water skier coming to shore.

Then perhaps a round of loud 

Quacking followed by a

Flourish of wings shaking

Away some energy or tension

In the soul.  Then again a 

Quiet swim with ducklings

Swirling around like a chorus

Of out of tune violins

That somehow manage to

End on the same note.  Don’t worry,

I’ll be back even if I am

Deaf to the song.

Hope Came In The Window

Hope came in the window last night,

Like a breath of fresh air

Wrapping itself around my

Self doubt and taking my bad

Dreams on a quiet walk to

Yesterday; a lonely street

Where the old lines are whispered by

Forgotten actors trying

Once again to be called to the real stage.

But hope has its own plot

And I signed up for the whole

Season, in a role I’m going to

Write a day at a time.

I Got It Wrong

I got it wrong,

But only the wind could tell.

After it blew the leaves

Into a pile of dust, it

Went by me whooshing

Like a train late for the

Last station made of gold.

The next thing I knew I

Held a poem in the 

Palm of my hand,

And the softness of its

Lines forgave my

Latest transgression on the

Rules I didn’t want anyway.

Just Another Angel

So what did you

Think was going to happen

When you dropped your

Soul into the abyss?

Only angels  or fools

Put blind faith in

Flying, and you sure

Don’t have wings. 

At least now you know

This is only an illusion,

And really you are,

Underneath it all,

Just another angel.

Birthday Greetings

Another year, another time,

Another clock started in my mind;

Only gone are the lost trails,

Only sad are the windless sails;

In time I flow with anxious breath,

In solitude I wait my death;

But all together written lines

Of poetry inscribe my life,

And when I take a moments rest,

It's hope I read into all the best:

Love

Holding Truth

Earthen jars were

Not meant to hold

Molten metal,

Any more than my

Earthy mind can

Hold the light

Of God's Truth. 

One instant would melt me

Into a lump of burnt offerings

To the little god of 

Poor me that I

Made up in a moment of

Madness.  

Lucky for me, the

One true God that was

Revealed to me in

A moment of mindless reverie

Has infinite patience.

Surely it will take the life of

The universe for

The small and fragile vessel

Of my mind to take it all in; 

Best to filter it through my

Safe preconceptions.

Or I can just wait until

I finally cross over,

And merge with the

Blinding light in a

Dance of pure joy.

A Scratchy Message

I got a message

On bright white

Paper.

The words were clear

But the message muddied up my

Eyes as though the

Sound of the pencil

Scratching across 

My monkey mind’s ears

Held the wrong colors,

Or hadn’t been sharpened by

Rocks falling into cold streams;

That’s okay, they’ll

Be rounded, if not soft,

In a few decades.  

A Sleeper

I walked so long

Asleep, in a nice

Dream that didn’t ask

Any unsettling questions

That it was most

unsettling this morning

When a cold splash of

TV hit my mind.

The murmur of

distracted voices mirrored

In the lips mouthing

Nothing  but

Strange fears,

Fears devoid of children’s laughter;

No wonder I got disoriented.

Between my own sleepwalking

And the noise of yesterday is

No place for Grace,

Or Emily. 

I Got It

I got it,

But didn’t hold it

Very well

Soon it slipped

Away into the

Laughter of bees

And the dancing of trees

And all the pretty little rocks.