New Ocean

A freeing, I imagine, is the gift we’d gift eachother

Leave the striving and othering to striving others grasping for some brass ring

Leave the grasping to the ocean waves that want more of the shore

A new ocean and eachother’s, I know…gold rings…free

Consider Instead

I want at once to show you

All of what I know of the day 

The real-deal of it, how harsh it can be

How often, if we don’t look close

It presents as something to be endured

Suffered through, something to be wished


This morning seemed that way

Then in a instant, struck me as instead


So be it, I say 

Notice now the grandeur of it

A delicacy to be treasured or consumed

Have it your way 

Either way, notice the gold

The encrusted shell of jewels

A Fabergé gift it is, to be opened

An outrageous little surprise inside

A sly creature, crowned in your birthstone

Peering out a tiny window 

White it rains diamonds


Miner’s Pick-ax

We wonder about whether to pursue the gold, giv’n to many of us as our birthright.
What of the cost, where ought we place it for safekeeping?
Sometimes wisdom begs, shouldn’t we be satisfied with silver?
Eureka! I thought this morning so loud you surely heard me.
Is the gold we claim our own? Increasingly we learn…it’s all somebody else’s alloy. An alchemist had been before us. Pouring trickery, then pulling heartstrings.
I, myself, thank the illusionist for that sweetest Summer. Warm, golden, nothing but refreshing theory. I laugh now and see the moving, invisible hand.
Take we back our minds and hearts. Go forth to the drivers seat, the miner’s pick-ax in hand. Seek silver!

Glass Gold Poets

You’ll be frozen in time
And if the past may serve
As an indication
I’ll be hurled forward, upward
With lightning’s speed

I at ninety-something years 
And you at something less
(Though an old soul nonetheless)
Staring at my golden scraps
Through your monocle glass

What words are we, then
What sounds, what sights
What wrongs did we choose to correct 
What hands did we not fail to hold
What love, of only this, I’m sure


my Society
thought little of me

accept the breadcrumb trail
beg for a Holy Grail 

return home empty handed
scraps to be demanded

now I know what’s true
honor is for me too

my heart the goldest medal
demands that I not settle


Laugh with me
Help me grow old
Ease me with tales of your gold
Tell me the story of each piece of silver 
Their meaning each treasure to you

Laugh with me 
Help me embrace 
The glitter life’s splayed ‘cross my face
Tell me you’ll seek me, need me, keep me
As we walk in our soul’s shoes