Tag Archives: writing

The Blank

My ordinary took control again

The brilliant other bowed out lame

She made promises with no follow through

But ordinary invoked the wither voice

Babbling into ears deafened by distraught

It doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter

I’m just not so ready as I thought

It was a sunshine kind of day

Full moon already a past significant

I pedalled past all the slackened faces

I took my tears to the leaning garden

I spoke platitudes into summer winds

I lit a white candle

I sat looking at the blank

I set the spin to random play

I slow danced your life into the where away

I looked at your smiling photograph

I thought of stupid things made you laugh

All the early secrets only you know

It’s alright to let it go let it all go

Today I saw a light through cirrus clouds

I waved as it could be your flight

I put two sweaters on this morning

It’s colder now

There’s a bird calling urgent from the cedars

Everything is almost the same as yesterday

I’m holding on to be here now philosophy

Step one two nothing else will do

New rain is falling

I like the sound

You ended every conversation in I love you

I think I might somehow better understand

When time means your meter’s tapping out

You’ve earned the gift of clarity

We sow our seeds

We sort our weeds

We arrive

And we move on

While Waiting

I stand inside this doorway

with patience and my daydream

What thoughts arise between now

and the moment somebody utters when

Look around at all these photographs

none of which I see my reflection in

Seconds pass and in the background

a choir is repeating what John Lennon

said so cogently a long long time ago

And here I stand next to where you might

be standing quiet too asking in one voice

How long (how many lifetimes) until we win

Wall Art

They are selling their condo

all inclusive reads the promotional draw

You’ll get everything you need to live well

There’s a stove and a washer

refrigerator, a red sofa, and two beds

A mirror in the hallway so you always

have someone you can tell your troubles to

Drift in and out each of the five rooms

a virtual tour riding tilted on a giant balloon

Each wall’s smooth as sheer windswept cliffs

no art or books here to hold or pause to gaze

Curious returns to the shining hall mirror

condolence messages via a smudged screen

You must be so lonesome here

The Predictor

On the day of first yellow mango

came the prophet in form of grand smiler

He stood glowing as I lay sleep wandering

He bore gifts of bright abundance

songs of camas and white fawn lily fields

Colours luminescent like rainbows

With a voice like a choir of ethereal children

he weaved my comfort blanket of story

painted walls of wonder unfolding the day

Sky Faces

You can’t depend on their presence

You cannot summon them with command

Sky faces drift on a time outside of time

They carry messages from places of knowing

Just out of grasp

Speaking a language you’ve yet to learn

Obscured from sight by light step dancers

Sky faces are playful tricksters

They swoop in close

Breath sweet spearmint and clover

On silent wings they glide low and high

Leave you wanting

Promising—-

In time, maybe when you’re older

On some still early morning mist rising

As a new sun spreads life to shivered earth

Sky faces will linger, sip of your offering

Whisper words in the language of your heart

A Hand for You

I could have left a note

but it’s windy over there near the bay

You’ll be back before the melting

they remind us every day anyway

I listen to Neve and The Deer Children

sing songs in a language I do not understand

Which path did you choose at the crossroad

I wonder over morning coffee

Where is her other hand you’ll probably ask

when you arrive and find my sign

Why are there no footprints

either coming or going