Feathered Friends

I might see storm clouds
I might see sunshine
or something in between
if I peek out of the blinds
the room is a lttle dark
some might even say gloomy
but my friends the birds are out there
and they’re still singing to me

The lies that I tell myself
about what matters or not
may help me through the night
but I don’t believe a lot
a seasoned seeker of the truth
is not easy to deceive
I just wish I didn’t have
so many things to grieve

So serenade me, feathered friends
lift me on your wings
so I’ll believe it’s worth it
when I, too, choose to sing

Merry Solstice

Sit in the sun
stand in the shade
melt in one
place or evaporate

Don’t mind the heat
or we wouldn’t be cooking
and half-dressed women
make for better looking

than Eskimos bundled
head to toe
(though snuggles are better
when it’s a little cold)

but a hot snuggle
would be better than none
when you’re delirious
from too much sun

I digress, we’re talking
about long days and heat
not what is or
isn’t sweet

so keep it cool
and stay hydrated
perspiration
is overrated.

Feathered Friends

I might see storm clouds
I might see sunshine
or something in between
if I peek out of the blinds
the room is a lttle dark
some might even say gloomy
but my friends the birds are out there
and they’re still singing to me

The lies that I tell myself
about what matters or not
may help me through the night
but I don’t believe a lot
a seasoned seeker of the truth
is not easy to deceive
I just wish I didn’t have
so many things to grieve

So serenade me, feathered friends
lift me on your wings
so I’ll believe it’s worth it
when I, too, choose to sing

Stop

Such a collosally beautiful
creation we’ve been dropped in
we should all be at easels
capturing the details of the grandeur
the grandeur of the details

but we’re too busy
with worries and plans
striving to get something
to fry in our pans
too afraid of too many things
we cannot control

Either we know too much
to be happy or we haven’t
yet learned to be sad
still somehow embarrassed
to be caught stopping
to smell the flowers

Too many serious things
to attend to and that
is our tragedy

Tusks Among the Ferns

The good old days are clearly defined
as the years before being left behind
but the so-so now is a little hazy
as a shadow crosses the moon
a mist hovers over the twisting stream
wisps of smoke rise from the small fire
offering minimal light and heat
in a high country where the searcher
seeks the way to the mythical valley
of the ivory where elephants and other
creatures sensing their demise migrate
to pass the finishing days

The man with the monkey
pointed the way, but the bearers
turned back at the skulls on stakes
and a couple were felled by
poisonous darts so the lone searcher
waits in the small circle of light
there are scuffling feet in the darkness
the occasional call of unseen birds
and what he doesn’t know may
or may not hurt him.

How much longer the journey may be
is impossible to say, with turning back
as dangerous as pressing on, so he waits
certain of an eventual dawn with hope
to be more than another beached whale
another pair of tusks among the ferns
time may tell or history may judge
or he may be another comet unnoticed
hurtling into the void
toward an unknown destiny

Hallowed

The sandals had been in a bag
in the backseat since my last
visit to the beach. Hot weather and feet
dictated their removal and I found
them still crusted with salty sand.
Reluctantly slapped them together
to make them wearable, and now
somehow the ground outside my
door seems hallowed.

Everything

I celebrate
the mountain top
and the sea shore
where we are reminded
there is so 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