Love Is

Love is plodding feet

Set fixedly to follow,

Whether dancing down a grassy slope

Or stumbling up steep, stony ways.

Love is vigilant sight –

Eyes ever pulled from wandering,

Whether held in helpless rapture

Or in staunch, determined gaze.

Love is chosen faithfulness,

A will renewing always,

Whether time brings tenderness

Or trouble-laden days.

Love transcends the moment

To pour out in self-surrender

That runs washing over feet

Whether feelings ebb or blaze.

Parable of Moon and Sun

A race raised in moonlight,

Eyes conformed to twilight,

Adrift through silver dimness

Convinced they clearly see.

They point to a pale moon

And praise the palisades of

Lunar beams that

Mark out every path

And all the proper ways.

But what? Now the sky turns gray,

And reds glow ‘cross their silver,

Splay a tarnish on its cleanness

To be scoured before it stains.

So grows a light that soon outshines

Their sight and all their guiding lines

‘Til blinded, they can’t see their moon

Bow white before the dazzling

Noontime Sun that walks the day.

To Heal Dry Ground

Ground too long left dry

Grows hard and brittle,

Shrinks and breaks,

And crumbles from the cracks

To dust that trembles at a breath

And when it’s in those fragments

Sometimes true and driving rain

Can only scar:

The rushing battery

Will drive the pieces, crushed, away.

But water that, in deluge,

Might sweep over broken ground

And leave it torn,

Scraped bare, still dry,

And yet more wounded in its wake

May hover in a mist,

Fall lightly, hover – slowly see

The clods grow dark,

The cracks grow close

With healing softening.

Even’s Swell

The ebbing light pools to aqua shallows in the west,

And casts the clouds through dusty lavenders to depths of gray,

But wispy-fingered mists still reach to grasp the glow and hold it,

Lighting briefly to a burnished shine

          ‘Fore cooling to a softened steel

                     As the fire slips past and flows away.

Then the smoldering brightness draws together

Sending forth its last farewell.

The chill of depths creeps in behind it

O’er-flowing it in even’s swell.

Swallow Dance

They sweep, a-dance, a trio
Swooping wildly o’er the water,
Darting wingtips washed by wavelets
In the swerving, swirling chase.

They soar, they dive, they rise,
Gliding up above the shoreline
Showing black against a skyline
Soft with opal-gleam pastels.

They hover over color –
Pink and purple, greenish-blue
In a fragment-mix of motion
As the wavelets chase the sheen.

Then again, against the cloud-light –
Coral, blue-green, lilac-gray;
They trace a tie between the two
While weaving lace-paths with their ways.

Of Spiderwebs

Shimmering silken strands
Shivering, shining in a sunbeam
That slips through shaded boughs
And streams to spot the grass below –

A thousand quivering strings of glimmering
Catching, stretching out the glitterings,
Tracing rough and darkened branches
White with lacy lengths of glow –

What are these but plain and ugly things,
So many spiderwebs ‘mong branchings
Of a single, simple pine tree
That weeps sap-tears to the ground?

Yet they become much more than just themselves:
When o’re-washed with bright cascading,
Clothed a-new with light’s remaking
They’re transformed and glorified.

The Signpost

I traveled through a windswept waste

Wide weary, dreary-hued and beauty-bare,

When in that bitter, lonely place

A form arrested, held my stare.

It rose to just above my height –

A pole with battered board atop

That shivered in the biting wind

But bade me, even still, to stop

And gaze in hunger at its face:

Wood scarred with etchings deep and old

That spoke in silence of that place…

Drove out its harsh and empty cold.

At last I turned back to the waste

But knew now that I tread upon

A path another soul had faced

And passed. I could continue on.

Fantasy Realm

New-green, the hills,

All speckle-swirled with white,

Stretch ‘round to bask

In glowing sun’s delight

And duck through woods

Of shadow tossed by trees

That tow’r aloft

To catch the laughing breeze

Which dives to whirl

Through flower-galaxies

A-drape, lace-white,

O’er swells of grass-space green

And, twirling, sets

The starlet flowers a-dance

To toss the world

Their wonder-blushing glance.


White of clouds in day-blue sky
O’er-traced with criss-crossed, branching lace,
Set wav’ring on the water’s streaming rush
To yet another place –

Sand and rocks all browned with moss
And tiny pebbles littered ‘round,
Sealed in by mirk-fogged liquid that
Slips ever past without a sound –

Oh, which to see?  Could the world within
This wet, thin-layered atmosphere
Negate the glimmer-hinted realm
That far beyond its depths appears?