Does music have a language,

 does feeling have a name

Is love the sole survivor

 that calls beyond the grave

Do excuses have a reason

 for the falsehoods that they spew

Does honor have a season

 to restore the faith you knew

Do all mothers have a father

 or just sons to tell their tale

Do all preachers write their sermons

 to rehash what God curtails

Are the words then just a token

 when cast out from the heart

Is judgment left unspoken

 with belief cut up in parts

Is direction now forbidden

 and all meaning thusly doomed

Is laughter all but hidden

 with its smile partly groomed

Is today beyond tomorrow

 and why replaced with how

Do the questions feign an answer

 indecision—your last vow

(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2018)

Each verbal success

  leads to higher new ground

Where the words beck and call

  with a heavenly sound

The trail to my future

   fades into my past

As the gift they inspire

  —my present to last

(Grantham New Hampshire: March, 2015)

Drunk on the fear of our own misgivings,

  we stagger and stray…

     —toward the sound of the piper

(Grantham New Hampshire: March, 2015)

Where are you headed…

   the waitress asked me at breakfast

Where have you been to…

   I responded in kind

Never down to the Canyon,

   though I’ve always meant to go there

I’m headed to the Canyon

  —now go quit your job

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

The Eternal Disconnect

Nothing could be further from the truth

  —than politics or religion

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

Fool Or Legend

Only a fool or a legend would chase the one thing…

   that he will never find 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

Truth,

  the social mammogram

Forgiveness

  —chemotherapy of the Gods

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

The house is now quiet,

 the children have gone

My beard they’ve left ruffled,

 as memories grow long

With trains and dolls scattered

 where last they played

Their love remains buried

 inside of the maze

The cupola harkens

  a last candle there burns

As the attic sits waiting

 for the toys to return

The old house is silent

 but deep from within

Their laughter still hides

  —and my searching begins

(Thanksgiving: November, 2016)

A window framed with memory

 lets in the brightest light

Its lock and hasp long since removed

 a journeyman’s delight

Casting off the millstone

 the rock of age has come

As darkness hides beyond the sash

 —to greet the rising sun

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2018)

Hopes and wishes step aside,

   as new words cut in to dance

Painting the floor red

  in lettered steps of eternity

Partners now consonant

  a song of celebration

Whose lyrics waltz inward

  —in patterns of remembrance

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

Does trying to disprove

 what I believe

 make you feel better about what

 you don’t…

Is your insecurity

 crying out

 that maybe I feel something

 you won’t…

Does the depth of my commitment

 bother you so

 leaving you distant

 fearful and alone…

Like a branch that’s now broken

 swinging high in the tree

 one strong gust

  —and your fated to go

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)