Stone People

Sunflower

Following reflections
From East to West.
With each greeting of a new dawn,
In grace you bow to Him
You—
Who have finally found
Your place in the sun.

Chorus

Some sing solo.
But out in the field,
when there is no one to hear,
even the most timid
make a joyful noise.

Brilliance

There is a brilliance that lies on the inside.
Who is it that paused long
enough to capture
the rapture
of truth?

The Parade

In the pond
two geese honk
an early morning song
as they swim, side-by-side,
away from the nest and
not far behind

I count them—
five

new-born goslings survived
the work of birth.

In circles they swim
chests puffed out
so proud
of what they did.

The Crossing

crossing the field

black-winged damselfly

hitches a ride

The Rime of the Kindergartner

three fat crayons
red orange yellow
in the fire i draw
a handsome fellow
a fire dancing man

teacher teacher look
i cry
see what came
from deep inside
a great big glowing fire

why yes i see it
she replies
i see what came
from deep inside
a great big glowing fire

teacher teacher look
i cry
a man a man
look inside
he's dancing in the fire

oh now i see him
she replies
dancing in the fire
ugly ugly man inside
dancing in the fire

be still
be still
my pounding heart
my bleeding crying
broken heart

a frozen smile
upon my face
i throw the ugly man away
and go
alone
outside to play

Thunderheads Threaten

A circle of light.
You are never alone.

raking autumn leaves
plans for a mulch bin
the cigaretter
flips her butt
all my work
gone up in smoke

Child of sunlight
Child of starlight
Child of moonlight
Grace
Shine your joyous light
of love
On all who find this place.

Celestial Song

Symphonic timbres
Etched in canyons of ages past
Rejoice in the cadence
Of the new composition.

Like a Village Gathered in Prayer

Nature's Gift from the Heart

Path

A path curves gently through the mist

Of lilacs and of daffodils
A wash of green and amethyst
Of ponds and clover covered hills.

Here bird-trills are not crushed mid-song
By Harleys or a passing car
But drift out freely all day long
And land upon the fields afar.

Nor is the wind a wounded breath
That moans and sighs with weak resign
But boldly rises from each death
And weaves its way through blue spruce pines.

Grave Dancing

So he decides

to dance alone
on the worn
gray tombstone.

Summer breath
releases
death to the
morning sun.

The wake is done.

The Collector

I'm on a quest
to find
the magic fountain pen
that writes the perfect
line.

A Poem A Day

The Problem with Zero

The problem with Zero's personality
Is refusal to deal with life's certainty.

Zero offers no negatives or positives,
Can't relate to fixatives or causatives.

Zero refuses to get bigger or smaller,
And never grows weaker or stronger.

The problem with Zero is ultimately
It renounces the laws of reality.

The Final Cut

You took sharp scissors
and cut me out of the family photo.
Not a simple cut, for I occupied
second row center.

I found myself lying in the trash,
picked myself up,
brushed myself off,
tried to tape myself back into place.

I no longer fit.

Destination Required

Bell tongue peals,
Daybreak calls.
New souls face
The unmarked wall
And bow.

Let the dreams begin