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


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


It’s a sad feeling
to be asked for help
you cannot give
a reminder of every
mistake ever made
as well as good deeds
which did not go unpunished

But we cannot change
the path that led
to this arrival
it’s not tough love
though love certainly is
it’s just a matter
of survival

Faith is most important
when nothing is clear
learning to hold on to it
is why we are here

River of Years

If I’m here in a year
will I remember this day
will it be a point of light
or blend into the gray
will I remember the work
will I remember the play
will there be anything
left to say

I know that we
can’t remember them all
just the inevitable
rise and fall
of the tides of life
and the muse’s call
just have to try
and not drop the ball

And hope that there
is something to cheer
that we don’t too soon
give in to our fears
knowing our angels
are somewhere near
to help us still
be here in a year

But if I’m not please
forget my sins
forget my losses
remember my wins
forgive my reluctance
to go all in
know that I’m grateful
for the love that has been

Just hoping that on down
the river of years
it may matter to someone
that we were here


The night kept its promise
long ago, my part of
the bargain was to
not ask for more. But
a young man’s understanding
of “ever again” is woefully
insufficient, so I gaze
at her returning,
longing for something,
wishing for a loophole.