Time immortal, the master thief,

 stealing tomorrow from the past

 

Abducting each moment, all life itself,

 —today within its grasp

 

(Santa Fe New Mexico: February, 2019)

Time is the mask that all memories wear,

 as feelings age within

 

Time is the bridge where eternity walks,

 each footstep to begin

 

Time is a voice spoken only inside

 where denial cannot hear

 

Time is the measure of what’s yet to come

  —in moments far and near

 

(Santa Fe New Mexico: February, 2019)

There a mountain in my rearview mirror

 a magnet for my soul

 

Pulling on what’s only borrowed 

 its lease to keep me whole

 

There’s a mountain in my rearview mirror

 calling out my name

 

Its winds have blown my heart to rest

 —which time cannot reclaim

 

(Santa Fe New Mexico: February, 2019)

When I want to visit God,

 I go to the Grand Canyon

 

Where she talks to me plainly

 and talks to me clear

 

Staring at eternity

 I look into her depths

 

As she calls to me familiar

 —and calls to me dear

 

(Grand Canyon South Rim: February, 2019)

With each step that I take,

 words jostle and form

 

Inside me they cluster

 deep down where it’s warm

 

At nighttime they visit

 in moments of peace

 

Defining my feelings

 —extending my reach

 

(Las Vegas Nevada: January, 2019)

Deep in the canyon with the grace of your souls

 carrying your memory inside me

 

Visiting places where we spent time before

 seeing each one of your faces

 

Hearing your voices whispering inside

 reminding of what we knew then

 

Sealing a vision all time has denied

  old beginnings freed from the end

 

Deep in the canyon, the cliffs high above

  the echoes like condors they climb

 

The river runs wild as it carries our dream

 like a mother in birth of a child

 

The wind calls out once, then calls out again

 its question defying an answer

 

As our souls reunite in the vastness below

  —the story of five canyon dancers

 

(Havasupai Indian Village: January, 2019)

 

 

Have you done enough

Have you seen enough

Have you loved enough

  —until an Angel sings

 

And the Heaven’s sigh

Your last goodbye

Your last goodbye

  —on spoken wings

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2015)

If you ask the right questions

 expect silence to answer

 

When begging for the truth

 —your poverty shows

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2019)

Can truth exist

  within a vacuum

 

Can it stand alone

  without listener or teller

 

Can its words contain value

  left to themselves

 

Can its verity outlive

  its many disciples

 

Can its hope transcend

  all circumstance and change

 

Can truth given unto itself

  —exist at all

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2015)

The more we are given

  the more that gets taken away

 

As Stephen Hawking looks out

  from his empowering inferno

 

His vision to create and inspire

  anew…

 

Exhausts the very flame

   —he lives to ignite

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2015)