January 29, 2015

Listening....And The Madness of War

A realm of changeable and non changeable opinions 
Where do we go from here? 
Plowing through these weeds of the field

Listening to people talk about this and that situation
How do I find the Lilies? Listening is more than what it appears to be - It is work

It is not just sitting face to face  
It is not just glancing across another’s shoulder
It is most definitely not pretending

It is being there
It is running at the same pace
It is a tangible, changing substance, intricately woven into the fabric of each of our lives.  It is a fluctuating vibration, where every feeling you get sets your teeth on edge
To hear, to feel, to make a pledge

To listen
My world of words turns me around
Face to face, head-on into the sound
I listen

January 16, 2015

What Is Real?

days age, faces change
kaleidoscope scenes pass through
history halts time

not able to write words that will make something remarkable and beautiful out of a past; something that was lived in make-believe - in the end a reality; maybe it’s wanting time to stand still, to look back; it never could, never would, because it never was.

January 12, 2015

The Little girl and the Conch shell

The Conch shell drifted up the shoreline on a wave, then back with the bubbles that softly lined the shore, to lie there waiting...in comes the tied, out goes the tide and out goes the shell on the wave.  The shell on the crest of the wave...

...for more than a day, they played.

The little girl skipped along the shoreline, looking for just the right shell to take home.  She spied the Conch floating freely, bobbing up and down, up and down.  The  girl raced to catch it before it floated away.

…but, she was too late, what could she say?

She screamed over the roar of the waves, “I loved you, I loved you.  Stay!” Angrily, she grabbing a fistful of sand and threw it at the shell, but it was too late, the shell was taken out to sea.  

...gone, the shell was pulled away, to be free..

January 8, 2015


too sad, too tired, too lost
who will understand the hurt
when aloneness overpowers
and slides down watery vines  
tears stain the ground
a clear drop, not a sound
captive amongst tangled roots
struggles just to be, to be free

alone in wintry nests
death flows in streams
to merge with the tide
death screams a tale
do not hide!
flow from ocean to the ocean
from shore to shore
in constant motion

in this death awakens your soul evermore

January 3, 2015

Love Lingers

the scent is there, pacing on the threshold
anticipating, acknowledging the limits, holding the breath of spring’s fragrance
love longs, love waits on the cusp of the stars
hands held together by grand days of walking through streets and countryside
through fall, through winter, through spring, oh how we sing!
caught on the lips, the kiss knowing that love’s scent is in the air, and forever lingers there