Among the trees

Leaves softly speak

To the breeze

That moves them


Whispers in our ears

If we but listen

Maybe too near

Do you hear them?


Simple as this

We seek to find

A knowing kiss

Do you feel it?


It was always here

Where you began

Every fallen tear

Does your heart know it?


The End Of Innocence

Deep basic black, in joy he soared

Sleek violet sheen

Most mornings we met the dawn


Now every day he will be gone

What did it mean?

Nothing of import to the bored


He misjudged, only one time

Wind or speed

Nature can be unforgiving


So an end to this living

Finality without heed

At dawn he will no longer shine


This friend of mine

Beyond Close

awakening of mind_body_soul

Realization dawns, uninvited, in this moment

Pondering how everything  perceived is in motion

Never pausing, always alive, ever full of  energy


Clouds billow white, traipsing nowhere in particular

Midsummer leaves twisting in the breeze

Stems too strong to grant them flight from the heat


Fall will be here soon enough


And the truth is there, as it has always been

Finally known, without effort, the search ends

All of life is in this solitary moment beyond time


The single constant, breeding infinite change, is seen

The canvas is known, unchanging

The artists brush never pauses, for this moment


I am nowhere, and everywhere, and I am the flow



I Die Each Day

Each day, outside the boundaries of time, fresh as no day has ever been, nor could ever be again.

I die to all that has gone before, what has been, never was, complete, perfect and forgotten.

The past is dead, and laid to rest, whole and cleansed, never again to taint this day.

I am this day, as this day is all there is, in wonder and love, eternal, without boundaries or center.

Happy Birthday

Laced crystals are falling once again
Our thoughts may now turn to you
Forgotten during most of the year
Music drifts, a familiar refrain.

Simple ideas of truth and peace
Common sense we too often miss
So easy to ignore or forget
Within each of us are hidden the keys.

The date may well be wishful or true
The story embellished and changed
Twisted focus on profit and gain
One simple truth still shines through.

Regardless of church or of belief
In spite of wars fought to validate
Beneath the facade of ritual and words
For each and everyone his life he bequeathed.

Merry Christmas