We often reach the future

by sailing in the past

 

Our course in life a distant breeze

— that steps tomorrows mast

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)

Don’t tell

me

what I

already know

 

Don’t give

me

what I

already have

 

Don’t take

me

where I’ve

already been

 

Don’t play

me

what I’ve

already heard

 

Dissuading

moments

when left

unbound

 

Preempt

the silence

a devil’s

sound

 

But deep

inside

satanic

winds

 

A Savior

whispers

beyond

— the din

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)

 

Why are you

waiting

your house

is burning

Run while

you can

from the blaze

inside

 

What will

be left

in the morning

after

But naked

ashes

and tears

— uncried

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)

Shepherds

of echo  

sirens

that call

Masters

of legend

trapped

in the Fall

 

Moonlight

on ice fields

whispering

still

Voices

stay buried

destiny’s

will

 

Sunlight

awakens

mountains

that sigh

Hidden on

summits

new answers

there hide

 

But with

 every Spring

a melting

ensues

Flowing

life’s message

recalled

— and renewed

 

(Memories Of Absaroka: May, 1997)

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”

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)

Upon reaching the top

I found a new bottom

Polarity lies

with the truth ill begotten

Direction a ruse

in misguided fruition

As searchers take flight

— in their new destitution

 

(The New Room: January, 2025)

When I was

a young man

I wrote as

a young man

 

Needing music

and art

to deal

with the times

 

But now

as an old man

my heart

chases neither

 

While dwelling

inside

what this moment

— has found

 

(The New Room: April, 2025)

 

You remind me

of a person

I’ve never

met

 

Of an

idea

that I’ve

never had

 

Of a

feeling

never mine

to feel

 

In a

moment

forever

— lost to time

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)

 

 

 

Bury a prophecy

— resurrection assured

 

(The New Room: April, 2025)

‘Normalcy’

has its

depression

built in

 

Mundane

and ill formed

life hiding

from sin

 

Each day

like the former

unseasoned

and bland

 

With time

in the freezer

hope frozen

— and canned

 

(The New Room: April, 2025)