Happiness...hmmm...

Where, in the book of 'Life',
do we find happiness?

What page? What chapter?
Or does it change with individual
differentials?

Is it languishing, dog-eared,
between 'happenstance' and
'having it all', or

possibly between
'avarice' and 'greed'?

hmmm...

In truth?
Happiness lies outside
one's sense of
self,

and nests
within its own
realm

of possibility...

Redemption

Contemplating life's sorrow and pain,
as memories skirt the edges of the mind, the soul ~
filling each tiny niche and aching crease of the heart
with emotion, with sadness, with unfortunate loss...

One dolefully asks, 'Is life worth its toll?'

Embracing mortality on a deeply reflective day,
as shadows blot the most brilliant of sun's rays ~
willing the warmth to creep into the breath, the bones
with seasons of joy, with seasons of laughter, as life unfolds...

One wistfully asks, 'Will I find that place where warmth lays?'

Wondering how, or why, time cedes to nothing,
nothing in the realm of human trangressions, human error ~
chilling the reality of 'always' and 'forevermore'
with hands of fate, with waves of destiny, with tendrils of truism...

One sadly asks, 'Is there reasoning to rule what time exacts?'

Yet, through the shifting shades and mottled colors of day,
a tiny thought grabs hold, holding tightly to ~
a slim ray of hope. One gleaming beam of optimism
with emotion, with love, with incredible meaning...

One humbly asks, 'Is life not worth its hours few?'

And there, on a bright spring morning,
is the budding flower prepared to start life anew ~
as shadows move to let a golden ray of light shine
with sustenance, with warmth, with gentle promise...

One prayerfully asks, 'God, may I share that warmth with you?'


~ And God's response? ~

'My light will lead you to the warmth you seek,
and on the fleeting wings of time...
faith will shield you from life's storms
for your troubles will be mine ~
and my wind will lift you o'er the burdens
that weight your soul with bitter blame,
and carry you to a timeless heaven
where every angel knows your name.'

Faith is everlasting....

(Much love to you, my blogger friends...)

Little Dog

The little dog leaps
with boundless joy,
running circles

'round and 'round
the yard, then settles
at my feet with tail
thumping wildly...

His earnest brown eyes
declare his love for me.
I scratch his ear and offer
a biscuit...

Such a small price to pay
for love, loyalty, and adoration.

Morning Clover

I find life's
passage to be
extraordinary
in itself...

The pitch and
rhythm of days
so different,

yet the same
in hours and suns
and moons.

It's the resonance,
width, and breadth
of days

that make them
extraordinary, unique...

Like walking
barefoot in a field
at sunrise

and finding
a four-leaf clover
to claim as yours,

then carrying
it in your pocket
waiting

for something
special to happen

and incredibly
knowing

it will...

Fallen Apples

Tipsy wasps hover,
sated by late summer's
harvest of apples,

drunkenly replete
in the slant of August sun
while haunting,
repeatedly,

warm fruit that ripens
from the inside out...

I watch from the porch
and feel the weight of age
growing, ripening within
my own body ~

I pray for a late frost...

Come September

Come September,
when two of nature's seasons live as one,
where days of summer shed their final afterglow
'ere falling gently 'neath an autumn's rising sun,
and every hanging bough and turning leaf will know ~

the green meets gold,
within the murmurings and turnings of trees
that flutter their branches in a restless dance
of impending change. Their limbs akimbo, as arms,
waving goodbye...watching autumn advance.

Yet, summer pleads,
to share the days of changeling September
and clings to every breath of autumn's eve ~
spreading warmth and sultry breeze with waning movement
while knowing time grows short, and it must leave,

as beauty stays,
though, not for long, for gold becomes gold
after summer's sung her final song,
and lustrous are the days and nights made bold
with autumn's breath blowing chilly and cold ~

O'grieve September,
though, not for long, as gold turns into winter white,
then into green with 'springing' guile,
and summer's sight brings back September,
to share a season's remembered smile.

A Bit of 'Whimsy'

The midnight sky lay stretched before me,
as I quickly tiptoed 'cross the milky way ~
and stars became my effervescent stepping stones
while moonbeams gleamed in brilliant, golden rays.

A myriad of twinkling gems were strung awry,
as though welcoming me with their brilliant light,
and there seemed a million dreams to be fulfilled
as stardust fell upon this rare and lustrous night.

A curving moon, not full, but only quarter-size,
beckoned to me as I gently leaped from star to star
and to moon's side I swiftly flew, beguiled,
by it's light that softly set the night afire.

Curving to the crescent shape with quickened heart,
held within a realm of bending light ~
my eyes fell upon the rounded world below
and there I cast a wish upon a star in flight.

Alas, sleep tiptoed by to dim the moon and stars,
as I hung suspended 'twixt earth and dreams
in a place where nothing's truly real ~
and nothing's ever really as it seems...

A place called 'Whimsy'...

Let There Be Light

Darkness creeps
into every corner
of the night,

and my breath
rises in diaphanous clouds
translucently white...

thick as fog
settling deeply in,
turning field and pond
into an endless
gray sea~

suspended quietly
through grassy meadow
and rustling branches
of a trembling
tree...

allowing solitude's
shadow to gently wrap,
surreptitiously,

with an empty
embrace,

while Morpheus
tempts with dreams
as I await

the warming light
of a brand new
day...

a new day
just for
me.

The Inevitability of Things

The clock beats
with wooden heart
upon the shelf.

Warily, I listen
to its movement
as sun settles

into creases of thought
left over from the
long day...

Shadows grace
doorways,
as light flees
beyond trees and
rooftops...

leaving purple-hued
remnants for me to
remember.

And I know
it's the way
of things ~

that time elapses
with wispy breaths
of what must be,

and every breath
must cede itself to
a destiny,

that every sun must rise
and slowly set ~

and through my thoughts
that wax and wane,
poetically...

I am undone ~
carried far beyond
the setting sun,

warily eyeing
the clock upon the shelf
and weighing

the inevitability
of things.

White Birch

White birch trees surround the water's edge ~
waiting courtesans bleached by golden gleam
of brilliant sun and passage of the moon above,
kissing stars with every breath,
'twould seem.


And far below these boughs of wood,
sea's cooling waters gently rise ~
their silvery mists flung from rippling depths,
as though cast from liquid eyes...


And I, one soul, breathe in the moment
that's stretched 'tween earth and sky and man.
So alive, as birch trees dance to nature's whim ~
capturing my spirit as I become one
with them.


My feet are bared upon stones as white,
as bending trunks of bleached birch trees,
and I rest 'tween blades of grass, admiring,
the world and all it gives to me.


Procuring just one tiny stone of white
and gently touching its edges smoothed
by erosive time,

I cast one final glance
towards the white birch trees,
claiming the stone as a gift from them ~
it is now mine.


And the stone that rests within my hand,
pure and smooth as the white birch tree ~
will ever-lead to this heavenly haven,
uniting me with the land and the sea.



Happy Earth Day!(smile)