A Gift to Give

What is there to give to the world at near a year?
As graciously given received is the smile spurred from deep
Within.
The refuge of the peace found within an ancient grove
drifting to passersby reminding them of the nature of
all things.
The iris bounds forth in spring
relieved of the earth-bound existence it knew
This Iris knows no limits to the power held within
given unconditionally to the hearts of those who take notice.

Feeling Swamped

When submerged in the swamp...imagine gills...leaping up for air becomes less a necessity and more an evolution.

Preaching to the Choir

There we gathered
Standing with common ideals
Uncommonly in this world
Some without conviction
Passion broken beneath the feet of others
Who have travelled so far yet returned to this place
Who are we to challenge the status quo?
Who are we not to.
And so it is,
Not to be discouraged standing there, preaching to the choir
As some have forgotten how to sing.

Gentle Moon

Spirit Thrown

Wilderness Found

A path new to these soles
Carefully stepping through freshly fallen leaves

Purposefully uncovering stones
Unwrapping them from their package of leaves and trail
Admiring them as every one a rough cut diamond
Placing each back to the leaves as gently as I lay him in his bed

Holding on to one with small but firm hands steady
Yet still fresh to this world

Somewhere here is the source from which we came
In the care given a stone
A child’s youthful realization
Breathing life to inanimate earth to show the spirit within

An unencumbered wandering in this wilderness
Innate compassion for this earth
Through this sense of place and awe

A wonder encouraged feeds the root of it all

Let us not foster fear fueling the fire of souls lost in the wilderness
For to wander and to be lost are two completely separate things
We are all in the wilderness

He saved a stone for when we reached the pond that broke into view
A stone held tight as if in prayer
Thrown to the water
Enlightening the stillness
And breathing life as a talisman tossed

Going Home

Returning
There is no going back
Human emotion and attachment
With familiarity ringing
As if there should be
A twine of the heart
In a place where life was before
Only that which has been carried forward
Pulls these strings
In past or present
Life lay not in what was before
But what lay before us
And so it is
And there too will be memories.

Rediscovered Wilderness

The forest realizes your presence
As there is no separation
The trees pass your arrival from one to the next
A telegraph of sorts
More sophisticated than imagined
Your thoughts read and analyzed
Yet you speak no word
Your feelings expressed
On the wind around you
A tangle of scent and sign unseen
Unknown by you
But tagging you
As you are now a directional here
In the wilderness you have rediscovered for yourself
What has always been

The Raven

Midnight acrobat
Trickster god
You have taunted the wind
And it has given you chase
On the warmed air rising
You stand still
Without pause you dwindle down
Agility in your descent
As a broken maple seed
You flutter and fumble
Only to set sail again
In full control
Letting the stregth of the breeze
Hoist you to a new height
And then you roll
Shedding any weight on your back
And looking to dusk
For in the setting sun
A promise of yet another day

The Essence of Truth

The essence of truth is freedom
concealment its converse
too long have you hidden
behind the guise
of imperial desire and control
true purpose revealed
behind a frail and tattered curtain
equally frail and tattered
and naked though you may be
emperor puppet
the shroud you wore before
was less than clothes
yet still you fumble

with your bent and crooked scepter
caught in the light
a loneliness realized

you and your court
exposed before humanity
and the empire crumbled
in the essence of truth

Nature's Call to Arms

The mountain’s quiet whispers heard early in the morning mist
Rising to the ridge with diamond drips on popular leaves
Light resonating the sound of earth’s call
Reminding us to slow down and open our eyes
Reminding us to listen
To a time in which the silent falling leaves
Not unheard
Not slipping by unobserved
Touching our ear as we heed the warning
Heard on beating drums of war
Leaving the mountain whispers less than so
A still reminder
Earth’s whisper bending the ear
A quiet but solid foundation
Standing firm in nature’s call to arms.

Small Change

Shimmering rays on wet stone in the swelling surf
Brow of the mason in the midday sun
Stone staunchly sitting
Stoic sentry holding ground
With the rhythms of the sea
Reluctant to change
But swayed by every wave
Just an infinitesimal grain of its body
Given each day
When it meets the water at high tide
Change
It
Must
Its rough edges supple over millennia
Change
We
Must
A sharpened shore without geologic time