I celebrate
the mountain top
and the sea shore
where we are reminded
that there is much more
than the execution
of mundane chores
and knick knacks bought
in knick knack stores
God is found in everything
but some inspire us to sing

I celebrate
love and beauty
that make joy and laughter
a pleasant duty
I celebrate
grief and mourning
serving as a vivid warning
to take nothing for granted
savor it all
there is too little time
before the last call
God is found in everything
may it all inspire
us to sing


Safety First

There has been a black cat
lurking in the yard. I believe
it aspires to cross my path,
but I remain stationary, thwarting
its evil intentions.

Early Bird

Through the window
behind the morning tv news
an early bird is singing.
I mute the volume,
go to the door. Does it have
a worm on its mind?
Is it looking for romance?
Does it sing a warning,
or just contentment with life?

I don’t speak bird. But I notice
the moon is completing its transit
across the darkened skies
just as the sun begins to brighten
the other edge of the world.
A few cars pass going somewhere.
My songbird elicits two or three
responses from other birds
that may be a bit grumpy about
being wakened, but we don’t
give a rip. There is always
something to sing about.

The Implacable Motion of Everything

The moon-lit clouds strive
to circle and linger,
basking in her cold glow,
but the implacable motion
of everything denies
the lingering. Nothing
stays the same for long,
least of all a haunted sky,
and the ghostly clouds
slowly flee until she shines
alone in the cobalt vault,
her only company a few stars
dimmed by her glory.

Ordinary Days

Trying to recapture
a feeling you once knew
may not be the most productive
thing that you can do
situations change
and life gets rearranged
hard to catch a bird
that already flew

I miss the ordinary days
when doing nothing special
was special in its way
I miss the ordinary days

I don’t think of Christmas
or the Fourth of July
but sitting in the backyard
watching kids chase fireflies
talking of the day just done
and the day to come
You want a little ice cream?
I’ll go get us some

I miss the ordinary days
when doing nothing special
was special in its way
I miss the ordinary days

I am grateful for the memories
of something some folks never get
so I am not complaining
I am just explaining
why I wish it wasn’t over yet

I miss the ordinary days
when doing nothing special
was special in its way
I miss the ordinary days

Too Familiar

Predawn Sunday traffic isn’t much
more unfamiliar feeling too familiar
some French deja or another
more going through motions
whose meaning eludes me
watching things that do not include me

I probably need the exercise
but the jury’s still out
there seems to be more
than a reasonable doubt
whether I’ll survive long enough
to be made stronger

I miss someplace that
no longer exists
far from perfect
but still better than this
and the one who always made
me smile seems like a dream now
it’s been a long while

But if the Good Lord
keeps this air in my tires
and prevents me from
jumping into the fire
I’ll keep rolling along
and when the sun comes up
I’ll be grateful for whatever
I have in my cup

A Cup of Good

Having a cup of coffee
waiting for the sun to come up
through the trees
I thought of the first time
you fixed me a cup of Joe
with sugar and cream
and my surprise that the bitter
brew could taste so good.
You just had a knack
for making life delicious