Living right,

death of no concern

 

Dying right

—life begins again

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

Never writing to make the words pretty,

but the thoughts pure

 

Each breath a moment of time’s demise

—tomorrow gone

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2020)

When man came out
of nature’s womb
—God was born

(Winnipeg Canada: September, 1992)

Night erupts…
The maddening glow
Of a closing minute
Of a final hour
Shines pale
Against the frozen concrete
As the drumbeat starts
And the chanting starts
My last broken link
Forever lost—Forever lost
Salvation,
The calling card
Of a new
Abyss
My breath turning
Inward
Where the heat rises
And the voices expand
With the choking of angels
And the plucking of wings
New grace into the fire
The blessing of those
Becoming
A curse to his rage
The fire of isolation
Burning sweet
Into my memory
Murderous thoughts
Killing innocent feelings
All orphaned intent
Lost in dark wandering
Time no longer master
Unto itself
—as night erupts

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)​

Artists reach beyond themselves,

to be more than who they are

 

The journey never at an end,

nor ever near—but far

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2020)

“Who’re you really” the Sage asked again,

that look upon his face

 

“It depends on who I’m looking at,”

I said, his eyes now glazed

 

“I’m never just one thing as you’ve heard often

in my songs

 

“Like the weather I am prone to change,

from right—to oft times wrong”

 

“But what of your essence” he asked again,

“the core of who you are”

 

“My essence a myth that plagues your mind,”

dimensionally scarred

 

“If your eyes were a laser with vision to burn,

you still would only see

 

“A mirage in the distance, wrapped in a mystery

—pretending to be me”

 

(Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania: April, 2020)

 

I don’t remember where I was,

when the Earth became my lover

Surrendering herself to me,

enticing all endeavor

 

Canyon Walls and Glacial Cliffs,

whose depths and heights I wander

Memory folding in upon itself,

my heart immersed in splendor

 

I now find love with every breath,

and every sight that lingers

As joy is wrapped in every smell,

that sets my thoughts to ember

 

To walk as one within the arms

of seasons, wind, and weather

Renewed of hope where dreams elope

—remarried to forever

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2020)

The eggs had been colored,

and scattered about

 

The baskets were hidden,

the children to shout…

 

“Was he here mom, was he here?”

they yell from upstairs

 

“Come down and find out,”

she says—nary a care

 

Their little feet rush,

taking two steps at once

 

Wide eyes dart all over,

playing their hunch

 

Living and dining rooms

they tear with a fever

 

No corner is safe,

from the incursion of either

 

“I found it, I found it,”

the bigger one said

 

The smaller one saddened,

their heart filled with dread

 

“The Bunny forgot,

there’s no candy this year”

 

From across the big room,

the first start of a tear

 

“The Bunny never forgets,”

their mother cried out

 

“You have to look harder,

both inside and out”

 

And as the front door was opened,

the little one chimed…

 

“Mom, he didn’t forget

—it was here all the time”

 

 

(To My Grandchildren: Easter 2017)

 

 

Deeply hidden within thoughts
that linger

A centuries old message
to know and then feel

Remembrance crying out
from the darkness approaching

In a voice so familiar—our fortune
to steal

It calls to us silent
as it waits for an answer

It calls to us closer
as all distance revokes

It calls from within us
in a voice our breath fosters

It calls us beyond all past
anguish and hope

The air now grows heavy
with a mist that induces

Words mate in the fog
as the letters reverse

The ending comes first
as the beginning still chases

Sleep only forgiven
as new memories rehearse

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)

The sentence was death, terminally sure,

to pack my bags, adieu

 

As reds have never looked so red,

and greens, the greenest hue

 

The wine the sweetest on my tongue,

as birds sing sweeter still

 

The children’s laughter I embrace,

their joy I’ll keep until…

 

In thinking back on what I’ve missed,

my mind then draws a blank

 

Every wish and every hope, twice over,

with my thanks

 

A hundred days to say goodbye,

and voice my first hello

 

No tears have I for broken dreams

—as I prepare to go

 

(Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania: April, 2020)