Autumn's Breath

Plop!

A fish breaks through

The bubbling stream

Wending its way

To this lake's depths

The surface steaming mist

Holding and curling

In soft cool caress

Firewood stacked

Against a wooden wall

As trees stand free

In brittle yellowed fields

Where horses stand silently

Nuzzled closely together

An early bird trills

Into sound subdued

Between this breath, and the next

As silent swans sweep

The silver glittered lake

Holding promises of

Magic, pregnant within.

Gift of the Goddess

 

High up in the heavens

Beyond the mountain's peaks

The silvered moon lends its light 

To evening as it seeks
 It's darkened cloak of secrecy

For these Elysium fields

Not the sun's harsh glare

It's turmoil left behind

This velvet landscape scattered

With my darkened skulls and bones
In the land of midnight 

 Where my Soul I've come to find

It's strange to find such comfort

In these relics that I feared

But now they're gentle anchors
From the place where I was reared 

These half-buried past reminders

That our deeds defeat our fear

A gentle current barely felt
Moves me deep within
Where scintillating stream of life
True mystery begins
This warm and reverent gratitude
While the Goddess hears hearts sing

I come here where I've been

As more than passer-by

Accepting in my hands

Deep fruits I cannot buy

Rich oceans of ambrosia

I shiver with a sigh ...

As Astride this strong white horse

I reach in deep and blow
An eternal haunted triumph 

On the sacred conch shell horn

A lone wolf's exultation

Let my fellows hear this call

Silent Music

Music fades when the song arrives
Walking dies an the dance arise
Gone, that syncopated staccato
of thoughts and things
Giving way to a heart that sings
In peaceful celebration

Say goodbye to my child and I
Say goodbye to a life gone by
Shedding skins and made up sins
Of thoughts and dreams
Of a life conceived
To be anything but what it was

Stepping out of this living dream
Living off this projection screen
Strange to think that in this world
Life is such a passion'd swirl
But watching flotsam tumbling by
Is seeing its significance die

Drifting now, though I still walk
Shifting now with this life's forks
Knowledge, certainties, proudly expounded
Built on sand, all quite unfounded
I wash the sleep out of my dreams
And see that all is not it seems.

When will it end

When will it end?
The earth soaking up innocent blood,
Rats like cats eating at flesh,
Clouds cover the burning sun,
Of hope and life.

Muddy mass-murder,
Making doubled up crosses,
When will it end?
Thy dead, sadness.

Gone but not forgotten,
Silently, never coming back,

Lonely and dead,

When will it end?

Quiet lonely pain,

Which silences thee,

Is it time to end yet?

Last year, my 15 year old daughter Johanna went to experience the World War 1 battlefields.  I recently discovered that she composed this poem at the time. (The picture is hers as well) As it contains surprising depth, I felt moved to guest post it here. 

Meaningful Pursuits

Through a wrought iron screen, can be seen

A random river of souls.

All going here and going there,

I'm reminded of sheep in the fold.

Now slowing down, something found,

Then moving on, no matter.

Looking at stalls, attention now calls,

They're all as mad as a Hatter.

A second here, a moment there,

A bustling carefree pageant
None looking duller, their splashes of color
All bumping along in this current

A father and child, a man with a pole
A group of young ladies out for a stroll
Impinging my senses, like breaking on shoals
As river meets ocean, arrives at it's goal

Steppes

Walk up and down the mountain steppes,
Ice lakes reflecting souls,
Wandering in and out of clouds,
Feel the damp and cold.

I could have sworn, my Heart and Soul,
Were made for warmer climbs,
But the sun I see, here on the scree,
Is quite a different kind.

The climb I make out of my past,
Seems natural to me now.
With growing Will, my sun stands still,
Though I never made a vow.

My lady's warmth, a cup of joy,
Are partners as I travel,
So I climb these steppes, with no regrets,
And watch my past unravel.

No thing

What lies beneath all our hopes and all our fears?

Not a thing. Nothing. No thing.

I know, and I don't know,

But that is not the point.

So I'll just sit here

And watch the clouds scurry by,

In the pre-dawn light

Loving Breathes

A silent Whisper,
A carried Breeze,
Through the Trees.
Branching, curling, swirling,
Tumbling Bees,
With an Ease,
Made to Please,
Brushing me, e.

- Loving Breathes -


Reaching out,
Loving rides,
My finger tips,
Speaking out,
Loving rides,
My two lips.
Coming in, and going out,
Whispering silent sighs,
Never have to say goodbyes,

- Loving Breathes -


A secret dances,
From the heights,
A scent delights,
Caressing, holding, enfolding.
A gentle sprite,
Comes at night,
My soul takes flight,
Ahh, the sight.

- Loving Breathes -

Nothing and Nowhere

Standing on Nothing,

Striding no Heavens,

Greeting Phantoms of Fame and Wealth,

Who think they have the Wherewithal,

To lead a life of Strength.

To them I gift my Gratitude,

For Bouquets of great success,

Yet none of those I care to hold,

Blessed only by their scent.

The crowds are always empty,

Crushed close around me now,

It's like the Vastest Prairie,

Where Every way is Out.

So come and stand beside me,

Just so I can see,

How you stand on Nothing,

Up here where life is free.

Beyond the Edge

The landscape of the past is
Littered with great Boulders
For us to move - Sisyphus like.

Oh what, haven't we been here before?

Imminent possibility and
great opportunity open up
In the maw of great Danger.

Close by the Edge
So many hand holds
Offer the next step.

Climbing forward, we slip back,
Slipping back, we climb forward.

But that elusive step,
Will take from us,
Our promised Forever.
Delivering only Now,
In a world that ceases to exist.

How can we move,
When Nothing is what we push against,
How can we shine,
When None will attend?
How will we be wealthy,
In a world that is now empty.

Without clamour or motion; Silently,
Great treasures pile at our feet,
As we set aside,
The cloak of Kingship,
The Staff of Dominion,
And answer the call

Beyond the Edge

Syncopated Thoughts

Though 100 angels,

can sit,

on a pin,

barely one will fit,

in between,

the hair's breadth

that separates,

Desire,

from Passion,

Hope,

from Freedom.

When I think that I can have,

That for which my heart has yearned,

A snake invades,

A monkey grasps,

As tiger roars,

"Mine!"

Ahh Goddess,

Immolate this Desire,

and rescue Passion,

To bathe in Grace,

Return to Bliss

To Whom it May Concern

Sparkling shimmering spinning true,

Twinkling shrinking winking at you,

Flaring dancing, holding my sight,

A sparkle twinkle, deep in the night.

Glittering flashes ripple the bay,

The flaming ruby's lighting the day.

Crystals of ice, white in the light

All flashing messages into our sight.

Did they sparkle your dendrons firing?

Or merely herald your life expiring?

Oh blind with your cane you suffer alone,

Thinking there's much, for which to atone.

But listen carefully, listen to me,

I'm revealing a purpose, setting you free.

Digest your world, consume it whole,

Give it away as food for the Soul,

For in a hand that's Shiva blue,

Lies an invitation just for you.

The Giver Should be Grateful

When was choice ever mine
To dally with touch, taste sound or scent

Whenever did the Gods relent
Or offer less than bitter brine

Except to show a verdant vale
Then deny the door and trail.

Would that fate had shaped another path
That feet touch earth in another part
Perhaps in life join an other heart
No-one wants to be apart.

Yet this is the path that led me here
To meeting friends that I hold dear
And reading words and then to hear
A heart that’s true is always near.

Small are the mercies of this life
Unless its true, God plays with dice
Small are the treasures that we find
Buried deep in Heart and Mind

These true gifts that we revere
Unheeded, unloved will disappear
But greater love in greater measure
Will make all earth our very own treasure

And so it is I take my fate
To guide me places I would forsake
And so it is I take this life
Enjoying friendship while I might
For to hold as friend is a precious gift
Too soon, too soon, away they drift.

A man's true journey

When a man goes on his true journey,
He knows of no return.

The littered pathway lies empty,
His baggage, the truest illusion.

No map marks the false path
to thorns and dragons,
Guarding the golden fruit,
that inflames and sharpens hunger.

It is a pilgrimage to make alone, though
shifting winds guide in unseen ways.
Sometimes like fire, it warms my bones.

I stop when I am ready,
When I no longer think I know who I am.
When there is no choice left,
But to slowly dissipate
Like morning mist, now gone.

Love waits patiently
As truth is reborn

-entwined

Willow Tree

A gentle breeze nudged a willow fair
As she contemplated her reflections there,
In the still clear waters of her lake
Where many creatures their thirst could slake.

At first from roots did she espy,
A Truth of nature, and a Lie,
thence to trunk, and branch did fly ,
Her vision and the way in which, her desire to enrich,
Was something she could not deny.

Another nudge, and those tresses there, began to sway and flow
And slowly slowly with the flow, did dance and swing,
And tempted , oh so tempted, did find new places she could go.

“Dance with me”, with the breeze,
Free up your limbs, and move with ease
Thresh them wildly in the storm,
Shake out your hair, and feel free-form

For in the spring I will carry,
Your scented gifts, though I may tarry,
To send the bees to hum at you
From a Tor adorned, just now in view.

Beyond Self

Our vast universe, is too small to contain,
What we from birth, all seek to gain.

By lightning flashed, and thunder smacked,
Our beliefs are ashed, our boundaries cracked.

Yet like the Phoenix, from the fire,
We live anew, born of our pyre.

Let Go

The rocks and shells that we collect
On the shores of every day,
We leave behind with no regret
When the jewels have come our way.

The Hessian Way

This Hessian Sack is where I hide
All pretensions I have of pride,
For such a faulty one as me
Would never, ever, ever see.

But ere I saw the game I play
When I meditate, or I pray,
I decided, as is my right,
Never to amend my plight,

For what I saw when I did see,
While I walked and talked to me,
Was whatever game I play,
It has no effect upon the Way




Written for a friend

A Beginning

As obvious as the dialog in an early Japanese movie - This is a beginning.

Whether anything will come of it - Who knows.

- Perhaps a reflection of the celebration that is life.

On the other hand, more time here means less time living.

Peace,Hermit