December 31st

Winter
Spring
Summer
and Fall
Natural order
A progression older
than any species
A progression as old
as Nature itself
Another year past
Another chance
to remember the good
to learn from failure
to try again
So we must
try and try
and try and
try again

Growth / Maturity

That feeling of love
that has grown
The maturity to desire
another's happiness
over your own
Loving in this way
does not diminish
what has been felt
only grows it into
something deeper
and more beautiful

Listening In

The gaze must turn inward
The path winds through our life
and mind and we must
follow that which leads us through
To be alive and mindful
of that which courses through us
that which propels us forward
To be more than the body
which holds us to this world
Seeking that which transcends
the self and gives life
to the unseen soul of us
I profess to be nothing more
than a student watching and
interacting with this life
I desire to be more compassionate
and understanding of others
I know this time is fleeting
and wish to nurture that
which matters most
To wake from sleep and
to fall into it is merely to
travel between worlds
I close my eyes and listen to
mother's voice as she heals me
Together in this place
We must grow together
Creation is life

what speaks through us

to create balance within
the mind and soul
to create balance within
the body and heart
this pursuit is never ending
how could it be so
age has taught me of the
shortcomings of my past
i am a student of this life
and still seek enlightenment
in each passing day
i listen to the wind
i listen to the waves
i listen to the rustling branches
of the trees all around me
i listen to the stillness
within mine own heart
this life moves the blood
through my body
gives rise to the thoughts
and words in my mind
let me grow in greater compassion
let me grow in greater understanding
let me grow in greater forgiveness
i wish to be more human and humane

Hold These Together

my hand will not be held unless I let it be
this life is boundless in it's changes and
pitfalls living through these days I am left
to think about my mistakes and good luck

must I reorient myself to a larger goal to
move towards I think upon this and believe
this should be the case what goal and to
what end do i wish to move towards it

we could have met this morning but I know
that will not be so maybe in a few more
weeks we'll have the time to be together
again even if just for a morning breakfast

am i ready Alice to see the place of your
spirituality the place where the waters of
the soul moved as waves back and forth
to the invisible shore of the heart and soul

the simple act of you singing and playing
guitar is enough to overwhelm my heart
to know you exist to know this is your
effect on me doesn't fail to astonish

I who desire peace and enlightenment
what am I doing to nurture this change
in the world words cannot be enough
action however small is still action

Fox & Bear

Fox met Bear at the coffee shop. It had been a long
time since the old friends had met. Fox asked Bear if he
remembered the first time they met in the forest. Bear said
he did. It had been many years ago on a spring day, the
kind that people tend to write about, when Bear saw Fox
under a tree. He asked Fox how he was and Fox said he
was sad. Bear asked why. Fox began to explain how alone
he had been feeling and that no sense of beauty was enough
to do away with it. Bear listened and then he listened some
more. He placed a paw on Fox's shoulder and Fox looked
at him. There were trails on the fur of his face where tears
had streaked down. Fox looked at Bear and said "Thank
You." Fox and Bear stayed friends from that point on.
They would make it a point to see each other as often as
they could make time for each other. It was always a great
relief for them to be together and talk. They had long since
left the forest and had been living in the city for some time.
The city had a strange beauty that the forest could not match.
In some ways it was even darker and more cruel than the
life of the forest. They enjoyed the hustle and bustle, the
sense of action, the motion of a place that seemingly never
slept. When they would meet up in the city they would
often meet for coffee or have lunch or dinner. No one
ever disturbed them or cast an awkward glance at their
table. People were content to merely let them be. And so
they were happy. Content to be themselves as much as
anyone else in the city, regardless of their looks or back
ground. Fox would still dream from time to time about
his youth and the countless hours spent in the forest
listening to the birds, enjoying the coolness of early
morning, feeling the dampness of the ground on his
paws, and the way light would scatter through the
branches of the trees when he would look up and just
watch. Bear would dream of the forest as well. Often
Bear would dream of finding a river or stream and
walking into it, the water soaking his paws as he stood
there waiting for fish to feed himself. At those times
he would know how perfect things had been then. How
whole it all really was. Sometimes Bear would wake
from those dreams and feel for a fresh caught fish in
his mouth but there would be nothing except for the
memory of a dream. He would then look out of his
window and know the forest was still there, waiting,
if he were to ever return. In his heart he had no doubt,
regardless of what his conscious mind would tell him.
He could feel the song of his life being sung through
his blood. The city might be home but the forest
would always be the place calling him back, unable
to let him go and he unable to resist the call. This made
Bear restless. Sometimes Fox and Bear would talk
about these feelings and dreams. They agreed that they
both still missed the forest. They decided that they
would take a trip back together to remind themselves
of that place of their birth. And so, the day came
that they got in Bear's car and drove for hours out
of the city until it fell away like a piece of clothing
that had been tossed to the ground. At last they came
home. They got out of the car and breathed in the air.
It was crisp and clean and filled their lungs as they
deeply inhaled and exhaled. They said nothing as
they smiled and looked at each other. They took off
their shoes and clothes and walked into the forest
in the perfection that they had been made. At once
they could feel the dampness of the ground and the
sound of the birds as light lit the branches and leaves
into a theater of color and sound. Nearby was the
sound of water and together they bounded towards
it as their ancestors did before them and countless
others would after them.

"I've got to keep control." - Worker Bee, 'Cold Rats'

The purpose to life, if there can be said to be one,
is to become more fully yourself as the years go by.

What matters?

Years pass through me

That's to be expected

This time is precious

And to be spent

As best we can manage

The process of learning

the value of what matters

is one that has only one end

Time Enough

Is there time enough

     for us to change

There is 

There is

as long as hope

is carried

there is enough time

     for us to change

We can't predict the strength 
of the waves but we can always 
be assured they are coming. 

Unremarkable

My birth was unremarkable
except for the fact I was born
with wings.
Perfectly formed, angelic
in every classical sense.
As I grew, they grew with me.
During adolescence
I gained enough strength
to be able to outstretch them
to their full expanse.
My parents were enthralled,
standing before me,
my wings in feathered white.
I could see tears
fall down the cheeks
of my Mother, my Father
was rapt in his attention.
I bowed my head
and my face flushed red
in embarrassment.
I arched my wings behind me
and let them flap forward
twice, not enough to gain
clearance from the Earth,
but enough to billow wind.
I thought of my childhood
and the embarrassment
of being found out
by other children,
inevitably leading
to showing my wings
to those who could
see, but not comprehend me.
I could no longer hide,
I had to show the world
my true self
even as I struggled
to understand myself.
Doctors were confounded
by me, almost as much
as I was. Theories were
posited, pictures published
in peer reviewed journals
theorizing on the necessary
musculature to make
the impossible possible.
I was always terrified
to attempt flight.
When my Father died
I grieved
and let sorrow fill me
until I was a well
overflowing
with the uncontainable tides.
My Mother cried into my chest
until she could no longer cry
and I held her until
I could no longer hold her.
When she submitted
to a grief filled slumber
I walked outside
to the tree where
my Father would push me
on the swing he made.
I sat until I could no longer sit
and stood beneathe
the beautiful white face
beaming upon me.
My wings stretched out
and grasped the wind.
I could feel them beating
and beating until
at last
the ground became
the world beneathe me
as I soared above it
as Icarus dreamed
but could not realize.
I kissed the moon
and came back home
to the grief
that was waiting.

Daydreams float like seeds 
On the wind.

Which will fall to the soil
And seed the Earth?

There is no growth without hardship and pain.

What I Have Learned

We could not live without each other

but we learned how to. 

There is happiness to be found in this life

without those we love.

Our hearts have dulled to whatever pain

we once felt.

I can see your face and not think of our

separation but remember our closeness.

                                   

Once Upon A Time

You were so small as to be completely helpless.
You were small enough to fit snugly in the arms of
your Mother and Father. They held you and were in awe
of your complete lack of ability. You were practically strangers
but they loved you more deeply than anyone else in their lives.

Once upon a time

You were so small that you could not yet speak, but that did not
stop your parents and family from deciphering each cry, gurgle,
and coo. You began to learn this tongue through the kindness of touch
and bodily warmth. You knew what love was before you knew the word.

Once upon a time

You were so small that you led a carefree and blameless life where
every need was anticipated and provided for. Your cries were a source
of concern before you had anything to be concerned about.

Once upon a time

You were so small as to be able to swim in your Mother's belly and
hear her heart beat while her blood pulsed through you.

Once upon a time

You were so small your hand could only wrap around one adult finger.

Once upon a time

You were so small that you could not walk, you couldn't even sit.
You were so small that accomplishing each was momentous.

Once upon a time

You were so small, words could not take flight from your tongue,
they merely sat on the runway while mind, throat, and tongue
learned to coordinate their efforts for a mutual good.

Once upon a time

You were so small that you did not know of oceans, sky, wind,
but when you grew to know them you grew to love the vastness
of the world as you stood on the beach while the wind shaped clouds
into abstract paintings hued in the pastels of a fading sun.

Once upon a time

You were so small that your body began to grow and find it's place
among people. You grew taller and wider, more confident
and amazed. You grew so much that you met another person
and together made someone new. When they were born
you remembered how small you had once been.

growing up

All the beauty you'll never have
was never yours to mourn

All the lips you'll never kiss
were never yours to taste

loosen your grasp
free it completely
let your palm feel wind