A Moment with Mattie

The journey's end...

2011-09-21T08:08:00.000-07:00

Breath of Heaven

2011-04-26T10:21:00.000-07:00

Every now and then,

when the world sits just right ~

a gentle breath of heaven

fills my soul with delight,

and I sigh,

as the sun brings its morning,

its gift of warmth to chase the chill ~

from the crook of night's arms

arising o'er that far hill,

and I know,

heaven smiles,

and I smile, too,

for life can be hard

while dreams are few.

Yet, every now and then,

when the world sits just right ~

that gentle breath of heaven

fills my soul with delight,

and I see,

the turning of a leaf

dancing in an autumn's sun,

a brilliant shade of crimson

glowing when the day is done,

and I sigh,

as the rose that stands alone,

thrives where no others thrive.

A rare bouquet of one ~

still strong, still alive,

and I know,

even in the shadows

heaven catches, unaware,

those blinded by visions

of hatred and despair,

and I see,

a promise of tomorrow

in that wind around the bend,

as it carries a dream of hope ~

with no hate or pain to tend,

and I pray,

as every now and then,

when this world sits just right ~

that gentle breath of heaven

fills my soul with delight,

and I smile -

I smile...

Spring in Late Winter

2011-02-28T08:52:00.000-08:00

And here I am,
breathing in a promise
of another spring,

with warm rain
gently pressing itself
against my window pane,

as curious tendrils of
brown ivy stretch and lean
to listen in,

discovering if some small thing
has decided to live, thrive,
and again turn green...

Now the flame has died
in the hearth, and Winter
readies his retreat

with a tulip in his lapel,
and coattails wildly waving
to the frost at his feet...

Behind him stands Spring
with an oriole on her shoulder
and lilacs on her breath,

her lips smiling red with roses,
and her eyes, they are filled with
sweet, damp violets...

A Sleep of Dreams

2011-02-22T11:08:00.001-08:00

O travelled road , rough and worn,

I've walked with ease on many morn

Down your path of known delights

I've trodden through on many nights -

To sleep a dreamless sleep...

My footsteps echo not within

These well-known paths where I have been -

O how I crave my soul's respite

To dream of life within this night-

To sleep a sleep of dreams...

O travelled road, you're all I've known,

But fever deep inside has grown

To forge a path no others might,

To realize a dream tonight -

To sleep a sleep of dreams...

The trodden path is worn and long -

Each day soon brings a seasoned song

That's sung till light has turned to night

And dulls the life with no delight -

To sleep a dreamless sleep...

Yet there's a field of emerald green

Where no foot has passed nor ever been -

Down unseen path toward dawning light,

I'll stay until the sweetest night -

To sleep a sleep of dreams....

Finding Prosperity

2011-01-10T14:31:00.000-08:00

Father always said Earth's bounty
was a man's treasure and would point
to Worth and Prosperity as though
they were places on a map of the world -

defining them by the sweat on his brow,
and the callouses on his hands that to him
symbolized success...

One summer, after Father had surgery,
he worked from a low-slung wagon,
propelling it through the garden,

inch by inch,
with his walking cane...

I thought his worn wagon much like
a little ship sailing on a sea of dusty waves -
his cane a floundering oar...

Like a faithful sailor of fortune
I worked the field by his side,
hour after hour,

beneath a red sun -
pausing only to wipe grit and
soil from my face with angry fingers,
aching and stiff -

newly-formed blisters rising
and weeping in my palms...

Until my last ounce of strength sailed
beyond those dusty waves, beyond those
burning hills, settling tiredly
beside the waning sun -

until the moon rose
like a round, sweet apple -

Father's face glistened damply
with a sheen of sweat -
his arms flailing

in a wide arc -
calloused hands moving
between oar and sere soil...

And there he stayed, among the sea-fields,
sailing his little stalwart ship that rose
and fell in the evening tide -

carried solely
by his own dream...

I watched him
searching every wave,
striving for Worth,

quietly rowing his way
towards Prosperity...

In Winter's Arms

2011-01-03T12:14:00.000-08:00

Winter holds me with his arms of icy white,
kissing my breath with frost upon the pane.
Subdued by touch of winter's frigid hand,
I pray for spring to find me once again.

O'wind, you whistle to the winter's tune.
Your melody is heard both day and night,
but soon spring will come to rescue me,
and wisk away your song of winter's blight.

O'tree, you're frozen in the winter's dream.
Your leaves have left you beneath a moon of white,
but when my prayers are answered at spring's dawn,
you'll thaw beneath its sun with warm delight.

O'field, your harvest has been reaped and spent ~
and winter blankets you beneath snowy mounds.
Yet one day soon in springtime's rising mist
you'll feel the greening of your earth rebound.

Winter holds me with his arms of icy white,
kissing my breath with frost upon the pane ~
but deep within I somehow always know,
that spring will come and find me once again.

Promise?

2010-11-23T20:27:00.000-08:00

As Thanksgiving draws near,
I hope everyone takes a moment
to reflect on their individual lives,

to absolve themselves
of what has passed before

while preparing for tomorrow.

And may they promise
generosity in a world of need,
compassion in a world of painful strife,
with gratitude for all things received.

As we share a meal with family and friends,
lend a thought to those less fortunate -
those without hearth and home,

and promise -

to give instead of take,
to offer love instead of hate -
to share without avarice
or greed...

Let us not ignore poverty and deprivation,
but selflessly offer of ourselves -

grieving for those in pain
with genuine empathy, with faith,

with promise -

to help all hearts find grace
and happiness
in the light

of human kindness.

Farewell for now...

2010-03-22T09:52:00.000-07:00

Friends who linger here with me ~
Who are you, if not my humble heart,
my mortal breath, my life's sweet song?

Knowing this moment is but a child of time,
let us go then, you and I,

together,
as this day quickly is undone
in the pink-blue shadows,
into the last ray of sun...

And let there be time ~
time to turn back and descend the stairs
on dusty memories' threadbare tread,

on little clouds and whorls of anticipation,
in one last remembered revelation,
with love, with no regret,
with gentle contemplation...

How swiftly the moon races to reach this night!
So come, hold my hand beneath the stars'
brief light, and we will offer fervent gratitude
to God and to Fate...

for they kindly made us 'friends'.

A Little Poem of Love

2010-02-28T11:27:00.000-08:00

I watch you sleep,

curved deep into your dreams,

and envy those sweet dreams

that make you smile...

Smoothing a stray curl

from your brow, it seems,

my heart lies next to yours

with gentle guile.

I imagine your eyes

of softest brown,

their corners crinkling

upward in delight ~

Slowly, I sink into

their depths and drown

in a river of indelible light.

I hear you stir,

stretching from dreams,

from sleep

and long to reach

inside your thoughts

to find

those things

that bring you joy,

making you complete ~

I wonder if your heart

can be defined.

Such frail things,

these words that fall

line by line,

eagerly they search

for love that is mine.

Broken

2010-02-23T12:44:00.000-08:00

My emotions rise and fall,
spun like a fragile
spider's web

suspended between
dry, brown grasses of
a graying season...

Torn, over and over again,
undone by doubt and
uncertainty...

slowly rewoven
with silkened strands of
my own existence...

As I rest among barren trees,
and curve myself into fallow fields
to sleep, to dream,

I'm mindful of their restless
stirring...

aware of their yearning
for a season of
warmth,

a season of
living...

I'm reminded of the moth
whose wings beat intuitively
against the long night,

its heart in tireless quest
of a never-ending
desire,

its life balancing
on one gleaming lumen
of light...

And like the moth,
I wish that I could endure
the dark with open eyes...

Spring in Late Winter

2010-02-16T10:39:00.001-08:00

The Light...

2010-01-07T14:46:00.000-08:00

Darkness pushed
and shoved its shoulders
against my house;

wind wrapped its
length around smoke,
brick, and black trees,

finally bellowing
and blustering below
the low hanging eaves,

rattling, railing
against the silent
faces of windows.

Beating violently
on my bolted doors,
the wild wind roars,

and I hide,
vainly seeking a flicker
of light...

I think of Nabokov's words,

'The cradle rocks above an abyss,
and common sense tells us
that our existence is but a brief
crack of light between two
eternities of darkness.'

But, I know he's wrong,
for God would never leave us
without comfort...

Are we not of his garden,
his beloved flowers clinging to
stems swaying in the
fiercest of nights,

with faces tilted
upward, awaiting his
sacred offering
of light?

No, Nabokov...

Faith is the inextinguishable
light of all eternities.

Safekeeping

2010-01-06T17:28:00.000-08:00

I wrote this poem

especially for

you,

filling it with love,

and joy, and

peace...

I folded it

into my pocket

letting it rest

against my

heart,

for safekeeping,

until your eyes

could

explore my

expressions of

hope

and

friendship...

until your

fingertips could

feel,

and your

lips taste,

the warmth

of my

words...

Chasing Heaven

2009-11-29T09:39:00.000-08:00

Last night was a night of dreams.
They told of cherry blossoms in spring,
rivers shimmering in the early morning sun,

as dandelion whispers spread a million wishes.
And they told of a hundred wondrous moments
that rested beyond my days of wakeful imaginings.

There were apple orchards fragrant with the scent
of ripening fruit hanging from heavy boughs, skies
glistening above junipers bursting blue, and
roses of every shade nestled in the wildwood.

I had never felt as close to God,
and heaven seemed a small stretch away.
I yearned to hold these images, etching them
into my heart forever...

Perhaps, this was the other side of life's window,
For life is a window with eternity on either side.
The glass merely a portal...

When morning roused me from slumber,
I searched for sleep to return me to this
dream of dreams. Of course...

Sleep retreated, and so did the glorious euphoria
the dream had evoked. Reality stepped into view,
ending my glimpse of eden.

And I met the day with my face
still pressed against the glass...

Happiness...hmmm...

2009-10-22T19:03:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-12T07:31:00.000-07:00

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

2009-09-05T13:18:00.000-07:00

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

2009-09-05T12:58:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-15T13:36:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-23T17:28:00.000-07:00

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'

2009-06-10T16:03:00.000-07:00

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

2009-06-06T09:54:00.000-07:00

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

2009-04-28T19:39:00.000-07:00

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

2009-04-22T08:19:00.000-07:00

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)

Putting a Face on Love

2009-04-19T08:36:00.000-07:00

Secretly,
I'd often wonder
what you saw
when you looked
at me...

Did you see silvered
lengths of hair and
time-worn skin

stretched thin
with living,

or did you see youth
dressed in black tresses
with eyes of green
laughing,
softly,

at life's
irony...

and I'd always realize,
if love had a face
it would be yours ~

every contour,
curve, and shadow
searing my memory
with radiant
light ~

burning their imprint
upon my skin
with eyes of
brown.

A Robert Brault Reader

2009-04-13T10:44:00.000-07:00

As anyone visiting my blog can tell you, I love using inspirational quotes of others. Some of my most memorable quotes have been written by Robert Brault. Recently, I found his blog (right here at blogspot), and it has become one of my favorite places to visit. I'd like to share a few of his quotes with you. His quotes have been widely used throughout the world. Thank you, Mr. Brault, for inspiring the world with your words.
~ * ~

Count no day lost in which you waited your turn, took only your share and sought advantage over no one.

Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.

I value the friend who for me finds time on his calendar, but I cherish the friend who for me does not consult his calendar.

Looking back you realize that a very special person passed briefly through your life- and it was you. It is not too late to find that person again.

The average pencil is seven inches long, with just a half-inch eraser - in case you thought optimism was dead.

Today I bent the truth to be kind, and I have no regret, for I am far surer of what is kind than I am of what is true.

Airing Laundry

2009-04-12T11:56:00.000-07:00

Mama loved
airing laundry
on the line,

humming hymns
beneath her breath
as she hung sheets
with gray wooden pins.

Linen rose and fell,
soft as the whisperings
'round a sleeping child,

occasionally snapping
as wind breathed deeply
with slow rhythmic movement.

Curiosity
held me at hand
as I'd recall Mama's
words,

'all things come out
in the wash'...

but some stains didn't ~
they lived on
forever...

Mending Fences

2009-04-08T11:23:00.000-07:00

The old fence leaned
with no direction in mind,
not caring which way its
boundaries drifted ~

following only
divination of time and
gravity that held it within
their grasp...

but secrets
have long since fled,
leaving wild grass and
splintered wood to quiver
with regret.

Finality of your words
brush against me,
ruefully;

and the wild grass
weeps as hushed goodbyes
linger along crooked fenceposts,
remorsefully.

I turn away, retracing
my footsteps home,
knowing

damaged fences
can't always be
mended.

Dust and Residue of Memories

2009-03-27T13:33:00.000-07:00

I used to press memories
of life between pages of
this and that,

into books forgotten
on shelves and tables,
in rooms tightly
sealed.

But every now and then,
wind would carry back their
residue, their dust settling
'round my feet as though
waiting

to find me unaware,
making emotions rise and
fall, with breaths catching in
my throat...

Carefully, I'd sweep the dust into
my pocket, it felt almost foreign ~
its heaviness against my skin, old
and new at the same time...

Returning dust and residue to
their hidden places among
pages of piled books
in rooms, tucked
away, tightly
sealed ~

I'd remember their
softness, their rare beauty,
their fragility and resilience as
they were put aside,
once again.

And quietly, I'd
carry on...

Spring Aside

2009-03-23T11:30:00.000-07:00

Morning gently tiptoed through the night,
then filled my world with effervescent light,
and at the window pane, I stare in awe ~
for while sleep came, a spring day came to call

and left her buds upon the trees. (oh, my!)
Now I kiss those chilly winter days goodbye ...
(Goodbye! Oh, yes, at laaasst, goodbye!)

And over there...

An eager sparrow flits from limb to limb,
overjoyed to be the early bird, that special one,
to get the worm at first hint of dawn ~
as darkness wanes, and day has set upon
horizon shining yellow.

And so, I think, I'll watch and wait a while ...
for sparrow's quite the clever little fellow!

And there...

A gray squirrel sniffs the air with twitching nose,
fluffing up his bushy tail, at play,
while dodging sparrow's swoops and subtle warnings,
as morning sunlight tells of spring's returning ~

displaying sprouts now green and curled abed, (sigh)
that soon will open and unfurl, (oh, my!)

and so, I think, I'll watch and wait a while...
enjoying every precious springtime moment. (smile)

Wisp O' Dandelion

2009-03-20T09:42:00.000-07:00

Grandma bent to gently pluck
a dandelion of wispy white,
her face alight with a warm glow,
much like a dandelion
touched by the yellow sun

when first sprouted ~
and with a smile she turned to me,
hand outstretched, in offering
this gift of nature.

'Make a wish! ' she exclaimed.

And bending our heads together,
we concentrated on heartfelt wishes,
casting them to the waiting sky.

Mine, a wish for more time,
more memories with my Grandma.
Hers, a wish for those memories
time had left behind ...

leaving only wisps of
dandelion in the wind.

A Spring/Summer poem

2009-03-07T10:48:00.000-08:00

On top of the earth
where green touches the hills ~
in spring, in summer, with daffodils,
with dandelions scattered through untilled fields,
with waterfalls and ferny fronds
companioning winding creeks; and
grassy knolls surrounding sunlit ponds...

That is where my heart thrives ~
among dahlias, lilacs, and rosy thorns
scenting life with fragrant morns,
and gentle nights of rounded moons,
inhaling reminiscent blooms
of many lost, yet, joyful Junes...

Warming seasons created to
make lips smile, hearts leap,
and feet dance to earthy song;
as earth's turning, ever-moving
old winter right along...

'Til spring emerges, and summer follows
into every nook, into every hollow,
with greening leaf and budding flower
bestowed by Mother Nature's power...

An overwhelming gift of rarest beauty,
A rejuvenation, a resurrection of life ~
when earth renews, when earth revives...

Yes, that is when
my heart will truly thrive.

Mine Alone

2009-02-28T09:22:00.000-08:00

Let life and fate await my call,
as my breath is mine, and mine alone ~
and earth won't move nor will it fall
if I rest a while with thoughts I own.

Hold back the time and tides of sea,
as I breathe a breath inside ~
and earth won't know nor will it care
if I rest a while in timeless tide.

Let visions pass through endless dream,
as my eyes are mine, and mine alone ~
and earth won't tarnish by their gleam
if I rest a while with dreams I own.

Hold now the night, the darkened hour,
as I must flame the candle's light ~
and earth won't ever feel its burn
if I rest a while within its sight.

Let life be life, and it be mine,
as my heart is mine, and mine alone ~
and earth won't know nor will it care
when all is said and life has flown...

Melancholy

2009-02-20T11:01:00.000-08:00

Late evening lingers...
casting melancholy fragments
of light and dark images across
green fields,

turning streams into
silvery rivulets while
nightbirds sit in their trees

stifling their song
as darkness edges quickly
along the horizon.

Resting in the long shadows,
dog curved in the crook of my arm,
I seem pale, almost transparent, dimmed by
day's passing.

Just a bit of rueful introspection, I suppose,
as my fingers catch a single tear
when it falls against my cheek,
translucent.

I watch it mingle with a golden ray of light
as it's carried beyond my reach
by gravity's pull...

another fragment cast...irretrievably.

Gathering Leaves

2009-02-14T13:30:00.000-08:00

Do not love now ~
if you've never seen
juniper bursting blue,
nor a rose crying tears of red
upon thorns of autumn hue...

Do not love now ~
if your eyes are empty and bare.
Let them be filled with laughter,
light, and wisdom, 'ere you miss
the importance of love's being there...

Love only when you've knelt beneath the sun
while gathering leaves of life, one by one,
and have held them to your heart, absorbing their
elements glistening in autumn's golden air ~
prepared to love them, even though,
someday they'll turn brittle, brown, and old...

Do not love until
your heart is full of living,
'til you've felt life's stirring and
know you're capable of giving ~

everything...

When I was the Moon

2009-02-10T15:18:00.000-08:00

Mama danced when I was a child,
and I shadowed her every move ~
we were two reeds swaying in the wind,
twirling to music, laughing, and
singing lyrics we never really knew.

She was the stars, I was the moon
that glistened on summer nights ~
smiling softly with every turn while our
hearts soared with abundant delight.

Two free-spirits at peace with life and
loving those precious moments shared ~
praying they would last forever, yet...

One day autumn came around, leaving
a world turned brown and brittle.
An ageful chill chased us away...
and Mama didn't dance anymore,

but I still remember how
the music moved me...and how
my Mama danced with me,
when she was the glowing stars, and I...
I was the adoring moon.

A Seasoned Life

2009-02-01T13:11:00.000-08:00

I've sang on springtime's sweetest morning,

enjoyed the whispering of summer's breeze,

danced upon a new day's dawning,

frolicked in the twilight's eve.

I've felt the sun upon my shoulders,

laughed when raindrops touched my brow,

felt the tide of sea surround me,

slept beneath the oakened bough.

I've felt time, and all its passing,

known life's passion, and known its pain,

realized each season's ending,

suffered losses, and relished gain.

I've felt the warmth of kisses glowing,

saw the light of love within,

shared the dreams of youthful yearning,

yearned for my youth, to live again.

I've felt sadness, in shadow's falling,

cried bitter tears as twilight fell,

felt life's joy, and felt life's anguish,

lived days of heaven, lived days of hell.

I've sang on days of autumn's splendor,

fell beneath winter's frosty spell,

remembered now, with heart a'burning,

those seasons past.....I loved them well.

A Shell Game

2009-01-11T09:54:00.000-08:00

The shell rested
against my ear,
and I listened, intently,
for the sound of the sea...

An imitation, an echo,
filled the silence. Its noise
a whisper of longing from
somewhere unknown...

as though its mimicry could
replace immortal tide and sea.
I accepted its offering for
what it was worth...

and I was no closer to
immortality than the shell.