I am fulfilled each morning at dawn
Because inspiration for poems are spawned
When sun on horizon begins to glow
Some mysterious juices begin to flow
Possibilities for creativity emerge
Weaved in my mind a collection of words
Inspiration comes from every which way
Mulled in my mind to emerge each day
From dreams and impressions I find
New ways of expression here in my mind
Unique way of being as part of this world
A unique way of seeing how thoughts have unfurled
It took time to evolve this wonderful view point
Now I can’t help myself, there’s always a new point
Happy to tell you from so far away
You can do this by rhyming what you say
I’ve practiced for years to get to today
And your words will emerge in the way that you say
The things that you think and the process pursued
Emerge as the words expressing you
To become the poet and person words let you be
It all evolves in the way that you see.
At dawn
the leftover flames of the night
are blown out
the dreams we encountered
dissipate like smoke
whatever comfort and warmth was gathered
in the space of sleep
moves on
to another space
where the vitality of the new day
is manifest
renewal as the planet turns
and the possibilities unfold
Hope springs up
on the horizon
as only the sun
can bring
the spirits of ancestors
who walked near us
in the darkness
are not meant to be seen
in the light
yet they guide us
and teach us
each step of each day
whether we attend to their wisdom
or pray
sacred intention held in the night
sacred intention held in the light
sacred intention held in the heart
in goodness and kindness
we become part
of history
each day
of our own lives
remember that which was
left after night
hold to intention
with each breath
each day
every step that we take
every word that we say
the secrets in hearts
can lead to sublime
results
of sacred intention
Among the trees the life forces flow
they respond to the wind
but they do not consider that
the trees could ever control the wind
they grow and bend
in the still lightness of being
Across time the trees grow strong
great mass of treeness emerges slowly
each branch holds to the trunk
and with each day
and each windstorm
becomes stronger
in the still lightness of being
Across space the roots intertwine
Sharing wisdom and nourishment
In the deep quiet spaces
Where they touch and entwine
Wordlessly communicating
The love of being together
in the still lightness of being
Up on the horizon trees reach for the clouds
from a distance they can be seen atop mountains
looking like a jagged edge of the earth and sky
trees rising to the sun
foliage from afar looks jagged
but upon close inspection
manifests the strength
born of time and wind and growth
together
in the still lightness of being
Life forces ebb up striated trunks
Invisible power flows from earth to sky
communicated slowly
to those who would listen carefully
recognizing connection of all things
under the ground of being
brought on by the still light
I hate what this world has done to you, Wanderers with no home. Deserted in your own community by those who should love and guide and support you
Children of our times A woman of 24 tender years A man of 36 years Ground into less in the space of distress
Children in the dust Then adults in this bitter world God save you. And God save us
Tears flow like rain on the redwoods The sadness of those who donāt even know you Does not know the depths of despair which will haunt those of us who do
My Christmas joy now bitter and bleak, when the middle of the month will bring you to mind all the days of my life
To think of a kind young woman from my past, who lost her children to despair Then died at the crazed hands of a drug addled man
Or a man who only wanted to be good – And was But lonely and in search of community He let the wrong person in
My sadness is like the cold of a winter night Wandering with unshorn feet God save you. And God save us
The little heart of a child should not know such darkness Nor should the person with no pillow or door come to this Perhaps you have transformed to what you were to be
But the tired heart of your genuine community carries the weight of your lost lives
We are not responsible for you, we who are sent to respond to you Or are we? Your parents could not have foreseen this Or could they? Your God could not save you Or did he?
Like the summer monsoon in the barren desert. Or the cold winter night living outside. Our tears, both silent and weak, are for you
Can tears and heavy thoughts be salvation? We hate what this world has done to you, Our friends from the street Who shared your hopes and dreams
You were the people of the tender and the bitter years The people in our hearts.
What does a sound feel like?
What does a glance trip over?
How many cups does it take?
How far is over there?
How near is dear to my heart?
How many times is too many?
How does it feel to get over it?
Has the sunshine brightened or dimmed?
Can a walk get us there?
Has the memory healed?
Has the truth been told?
What or how or how many?
When did you realize?
Can real eyes see through?
Has the darkness touched the dawn?
Where is it?
How many is too many?
How many is enough?
When did time slip away?
Where did it go?
Can time come back?
Is there delight in midnight?
How do you know?
When do you realize?
What are too many tries?
What would Jesus do?
Can fishes walk on water?
Had time gone by?
What can be done in order to try?
When do questions end?
