Avilion

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One fluid motion this life
Don’t let the fits and starts fool you
A seeming inability to find what it’s all for
When people pain your heart
Love them aloud anyway
Should the days forbare to reveal truth
Herald the light nonetheless
Befriend all of nature
Indulge noisy children
Sing a workaday’s song
To the water’s depth, say, “OK”
At the end of the day, this is what it’s all for
Don’t let your eyes miss the overflow
One silken strand this life to weave
Photo Location: Bay View, Wisconsin’s Avalon Atmospheric Theater

Another Word For Coward

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Cat and mouse throughout my dreams
At play, we
I don’t win

Pedigreed, you chose, not me — then you began again

The poor girl of your youth
I am
Too much proof of your roots

Together nevermore, old friend — how urban lights pollute

Just

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Remind me to love, Lord
One ear up to all the world

One myopic eye
Just one
To all that ails me

Give me You
A curiosity-cocked mind
To learn just what is their need

Light to shine, that all feel seen
Many comforts and time to share

Kadesh

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What might we share?
Except for some source of light
And the cello muse
I won’t pretend to know

Though

I like soft things
You like the edge
I’m drawn to abbeys
You’re from the deep

I flirt with irreverence
You respect me
So maybe we could stand
A day or year

A treaty, here

Find peace
Decide
Praise The Rock from which The Water flows
Not far from Jordan

Motherhood

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And then, daylight
Appeared — what for, this song
This soft white light
The quiet, cool exhalation
I’d waited a lifetime

None books I’d read
No wisdom sent my way
Foretold through the ages
Oh, those kind sages!
The wholesale beauty of you

We Begin

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An hour, now, clutching the cold morning coffee, an acrid-filled, comfortless cup.

Still dark.

Consumed, we, with what’s bearing down at the door — bellowing “more, more, and more!”

Its roar.

Will this new blanket be warm enough, this day sustain hope beyond the front-porch light?

Windows fogged.

Still, dawn’s bright, there, without, meets a heat — long-stored and stoked — here, within.

We Begin.

Our Finest Hour

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Our finest hour

And, Goddamn it, lift your voice

Shriek to me from out of the grey

It has been six years and six months to the day

Set aside your pen

Unpoison your wellspring

Harmonize with me

End the endless justification of silence

Of the dark

Lived lives trump safe lives

Remember?

Universe Orator

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Space

The far out there we strive to delve into
The mired-down terra here we call home

Be brave, if you will

Act to master the wherefore
Despite arms never long enough
Lousy, camera-fumbling hands
Fingers that can’t match the shutter speed
To touch what the eyes so beautifully see
To hold that light reflecting
From the Universe Orator

Still, we of mortal’s strength
With small or great faith
Must reach celestial-ward
Look up
Cry out
Be healed

Original Thought Credit: “If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.”
-2 Chronicles 7:14