Leaving Traces

When running, go ever lightly
Though rapid as a cheetah hunting –
Not tracking nose down, like hounds,
See the earth rising with each lunge
Catch the vision, scene in
An opportunity of words supposed
Bright foils that scrimmage
When captured upon an open page.

State the business though
Monkeyed it might be, sing it
If it is harmony – carrying peace
Like lovely masses where
Every syllable shines a precious gem
Reflections lifting sorrow, erasing
Care from souls doubting life
Can be borrowed for tomorrow.

Cupping hands for freshwater
To cool the parchment of thirst
Brought on by racing to make
This day savory, trusting
An exhausted body to rebound
Outlining a future of remarkable
Service with little decrepitude.

Lightly, overcoming the weight
Bowing shoulders, fast, losing hope;
Bringing victorious kindness forth
Presenting before the Spirit of Love
Forwarding any praise essential;
Though perhaps not winning first
God attends every soul careering on.

High Date

Today is my son Alex’s birthday. I hesitate to reveal his age because I am not old enough, but he is 33 years old today. If a child has ever been a blessing, Alex is one.

There are so many accomplishments he made of which I am proud. The thing most touching to my heart is that we are best friends.

Understandably I am spending time with him since he is local. It is the first time since 2006 we have been together on his day. So you will pardon me for a brief entry.

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I feel we play now
Off the staff, without clef, bars,
Improvisation.

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Tuning instruments
Preparing the score, once more,
In harmony, join.

Instants Gather

Be strong, for there is
No other way to conquer fear
Or release the love
Needed to set worlds aright,
Let hearts go on burning bright.
Disappointment will
Steal every happiness, if let –
Expectations stir
The wellsprings of discontent –
Even deserted choose joy.
Make alone – free space
For empowerment and learning
Bask in the design
Which allows acquisition
Of skill, creativity.
Most experience
Starts in imagination,
Thought being precious
Never waste it, cultivate
Attitudes of gratitude.
Be a positive
Person in a negative
World and different
When others opt to conform,
Be a presence live unique.

Come Closer

When tempted only to browse
Not close, not truly see
One avoids involvement
In everything completely.
Dandelions are destitute weeds
Not delicate creations, beauty,
People become utilitarian
Not deriving from incomprehensible
Depths of dignity, glamour, time.
The slant rays limning a vine
Do not enchant causing one
To desperately pine for a glimpse
Of crimson roses sent once
Upon a splendid loving time.
There is no magic, allure,
No precious heavenly divine
Each thing is dust fashioned
To feast upon with unrequited lust.
Slow a bit, look, long linger
Over what the world passes by,
The silver flicker of sun lighting waves,
A raindrop reflecting golden from clover,
The wingbeats gentle susurration
Of the murder of crows rising
Into the cerulean sky as a fierce
Beribboned Shih Tzu puppy walks
With a small bark and no chase to find.
Come, come, be entranced again
Let nature, environments,
Become the closest of friends,
Treasure every person, let
Humanity delight, rousing love
To light fires of generosity, kindness;
Gather hope that tomorrow will divulge
The abundant pleasures of happiness
Filling each day full-measure, overwhelming,
And to God all the glory, gratitude.

Said

Guilt is an absence
Of power after sound waves
Drift away to solemn silence,
Though words, you cannot
Eliminate, never unsay.
Wrestling with space, time,
Speech, a broom swept astray,
But sonic booms mark
Days even thundering
Out of consciousness;
Mirroring back damage,
Only forgiveness fortifies
Love with harmony, to manage
A million tiny rips, and stay.