New Hampshire Dawn

Coming from nowhere
Going the same
The tracks in front
Pointing to
Tracks behind
The wind on the lake
Reminding
That I am still a guest
The snow on the ice
An invitation
Begging acceptance
New Hampshire Winters
Are white
In my memory
And frozen in their
Clarity
Even whiter
Dawns
Out of the stillness
A Moose crashes
Through the snow
Never acknowledging
My presence
His majesty
Confirming everything
That unfound I’ve lost
His spirit cries out
And with quiet respect
I follow him across
The frozen lake
Leaving tracks of memory
One final time
—never to be seen again

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2014)

Hope Never Rests

While looking for a bridge
  to cross over tonight

Connecting time honored values
  to internet blight

I thought and I pondered,
  as I surfed on the net

But the things that it offers
  are sadly abject

Where is the laughter
  the thrill of the chase

Through forest and meadow
  with all of your mates

Gone is the connection
  looking eye into eye

Replaced now with distance
  and its virtual lie

The children are programmed
  their bits and their bytes

With screens the new playgrounds
  their couches—their life

Where all of this leads,
  I’m fearful to know

As I look for that bridge
  where our youth can still go

To return from the chaos
  to a welcoming time

Where friendships were made
  in a tree you just climbed

But the harder I search
  the dimmer it gets

Quicksand reinvented
  their souls it collects

Though cards stack against me,
  I remain on my quest

The young are still worth it
 —and hope never rests

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2017)

Your Original Sin

What’s that you’ve settled for
What’s that you say
From the library of excuses
You reason away
It seems almost this
But never quite that
As the present escapes
And you look further back
No comfort to take
In that notch on your gun
As you fire in vain
And continue to run
But you say it’s enough
It will then have to do
You repeat what’s been spoken
Never anything new
And you look for a club
Others thinking the same
To plead their excuses
Blaspheme and profane
But alone in the vestibule
A soul fires away
And speaks about life
And its maxims today
His message reoffered
But again you look back
The last sinners you follow
Leaving motherless tracks
Your life now committed
To the lies that you’ve told
And your headstone engraved
With letters that scold
Once eternity beckoned
With your eyes looking up
And drawing its strength
You drank from its cup
But that story’s been told
You’re alone in the ground
Scant little reminder
You were ever around
As your bones become dust
To be reclaimed by the wind
Those excuses you trusted
—your original sin

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2014)

To Finish This Song

What mountains have you climbed
What valleys have you fallen into
How many hearts have you broken
How many lies have you told
How many days have been wasted
How many sorrows have been shared
How many promises have been made
How many strangers did you love

What mountains have you climbed
What valleys have you fallen into
How many deserts have you roamed
How many times have you been lost
How many friends can you count on
How many enemies still fear you
How many lines need to be written
—to finish this song

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2014)