Birds in Spring

morning doves and whippoorwills fill the springtime air,

a song so sweetly enduring, as if in some despair,

through the night and first at dawn, no pause in the sweet tune

and children cry and lovers sigh in the limn of the low moon


the buds of May burst bright, the colors fade to thought,

urged away by more ancient tunes, like the summer sun grows hot,

the mountain shadows chill the wind, and the pinyon bird sings louder still

if there be no rhythm to time, there would be no weight to the will








A Poet’s Dream

Describe the dream in words,

that’s what poets do,

and the dream is like a piece of art

both sprung from the mind, these two.

A world of beauty in one glance

twisted fate and perfect circumstance

a current of deep waters, a dance,`

shining, colorful, dark…

The forms within are many

yet of materials so minute;

it is a wonder there is a dance at all,

yet the tree has taken root!

It is surrounded by a pond, emerald green,

and the blue white high above,

of life is the tree, it surely appeared when

a strong will became great love.


Silent Scream

Stuck in my head,

like that concussed feeling,

a sting behind the eyes,

an inhalation of breath

in a freezing night

an orchestra symphony

of minor chord disharmony,

the gut’s turn before the snake strike,

the coldest hour before sunrise,

before the light breaks through the ice.


Nowhere and everywhere left to turn,

to God and to the knowledge of the world,

a circular current from spirit to mind,

distant points and so many lines,

like the light at the edge of the sky,

the divine structure in the ice

and liquid water, bringing forth life,

that ancient familiar spark in the eye,

a motivation forward, this forlorn sigh,

and fortuitous when these elements combine:

Life tends to thrive after fires of time.











Heart of Gold

A heart of gold

is a heart as hard as ice,

and solid gold melts quite quick

and the surface easily scythed.

the luster fades like the sun,

as is the way with time,

it’ll circle round and reassure,

that it is an infinite light

the glimmer is only a reflection

a manifestation of how rays align

neither a fetter nor weight to bear,

as true as the blood veins flow,

in new angles the light rays shine

radiating from heart from the soul

from the hand and from the eye

and the depths that can’t be known



Either Way

Like a flash of lightening,  fallen star

the breath before the song,

as it contemplates the space ahead,

a swivel, turn, then gone:

It is a mind that falls to make

the planets all turn right,

and even forceful powers of fate

are reduced by the mind and finite.

With such ease it could have been,

a familiar Northern flight.

Not a moments time to bend

with so many ends in sight.





The Back Road

Back road, back road, drifting aimlessly

Back road back road, many sights to see,

Glittery skies and tall mountain pines,

They grow and fall with the fires of time

Whether the burning blazing kind,

Or the dollar signs in peoples’ eyes

How now spirit, what hold have you here?

The enchantment of the spring rain,

Inner peace in the world’s chaos game

The growth of your soul while it all stays the same?

No one, nowhere, nothing to hold

Will be that ocean’s last standing wave,

if the fall is to the side of life,

and you’re not in the center to make the play.

Back road, Back road, drifting aimlessly,

Back road, back road, many sights to see.

Fairy Lights

Humming birds and fireflies,

gentle fairies flying light

No rain nor wind shall pull thee down

the air is yours is all around.

So as it goes, the world is neither

only within and not without

and all those lights a floating past

the same as yours, lit  by en eye

determined to fade like day into night

such as with like love, a fire most bright

and source and destination aside,

the power that moves bestows peace in the flight.




I think of you in the dark of night,

and in the fresh light of morn,

somewhere in the mist, our souls

parted ways, and we were born.


Rose petals climb the trusses

a soft texture on the walls,

no free will sends those roses high,

primordial growth, from the first light of time.


Alas, if love is like a rose,

it surely knows which way to grow,

yet trees and clouds obscure the way,

and adjacent brambles snare and sway.


One a morning fair, I passed the rose

and sang a sweet old tune,

and the sun is bright and the sky as blue

than when our love was in full bloom.









One thousand miles in one step,

nothing but a small turn back,

so fast there is no imprint left,

the trail fades fast in dry sands.

Take the leap and dust shall rise

So many spiral tunnels of flight

Who is to tell when the time is right?

All is to know is the open sky.

The flight, the time, the world may fall,

Love and Wisdom and Will stand tall,

and fettered, icy wings sustain,

when falling towards the world to gain.











Older Insights in Time

Oh Time, you are nothing but

a reality of my mind.


The fragments of existence

dance in your pages

to songs that have been sung.

Minutes and seasons

turn into ages, and eyes burn bright

in days to be won.


You hold our visions of light and life.

They shine forever in your midst

written in the soul’s infinite light

then read for infinites thence.