Now Gratitude

Now gratitude, and love, and joy:
That heart meets heart, and girl meets boy –
That you met me, and I met you,
And we’re not even close to through
With what there is to see; explore —
The love that wakes us, wanting more –
The endless glist’ning of surprise
That are the stars
Your eyes

it is as thoughts through fingertips
whene’er I touch your face;
and love comes pouring back on me,
transcending time and place

i only ask a moment more,
i only ask this hour;
and i would stay the march of time
if i but had the pow’r

which i do not, and never will,
and so, just let us drink our fill
of what we do have, while we can:
for loving now beats any

Here Is The Truth

Here is the truth that blinds the eyes;

Warm as the morning’s soft return –

Love is an aching, proud surprise;

Joy is a scar, and hope, a burn


Much that is sadness comes our way,

Rapt though we be in thought and gaze;

Here is truth that must be borne —

Life is just moments;

Years –

Just days

Seekers of the Fire

the trees turn their backs upon
the last of the light,
where cold blows the winter,
and pale comes the night
the last bit of warmth, that goes
engulfed by doubt —
but seekers of the fire know:
the fire’s

in the wilderness
of light chased and hope betrothed,
some still recall how
the fire once called to good
the people who long slumbered

The Bridge That Takes Us There

We crawl, we stretch, we reach, we climb;

We long to break the bonds of time —

And for connection, risk our hearts

In fun and games, in fits and starts


So many cars, so many roads,

As weather, time, and light corrodes;

We seek the bridge that takes us there:

We drive and drive,

But grasp

At air

mystic forest

the mystic forest

where branches intercept what

the heavens declare

the glow streams through
the yielding trees
to add its light
to our unease

but though our minds
are restless, true –
what light we have
will have
to do

scolded by beatitude,
blessed by touch of sorrow;
forest of today’s intent,
hide my shame

as i live and breathe

she once said

before she just stopped

The Ashes of the Fire

That once, in winter, when her heart was young,
She felt the world outside / inside the same;
The season when her soul’s true songs were sung,
And bitterness was still outside the frame

Who sees the girl? The woman’s been her fate,
And all that’s left of winter is the cold;
The day is dark, the hour’s growing late,
So much she’s felt, not meant to be controlled –

Sometimes, it’s not the heart that breaks, but more:
The part of her that lived for bigger cause,
The ashes of the fire come before,
The cynic from the idealist that was

A girl so in to everything
Who gave that up for “reasons” —
She cannot bring December back
For she’s lost all
Her seasons