Stark and bland and beige and bare: The rule applies, without, within — That you can let the light flood in, And still nobody quite be there The nights are hard, then comes the day, For truth is found where it’s not sought: That love’s a thing that can’t be bought, Or had much any … Continue reading "4 insignificant Stanzas"
The seal upon the window of an age: Like lights that glimmer, loosely linked in lines, The purple calm upon the yellow rage. Though sighted, still the best we see’s through blinds: A city skyline and a moldboard plow — Is that the view that this, our time, defines? Perspectives, formed by what we will … Continue reading "The Window of An Age"
The smell of violets near a glass of wine, The sweet of citrus in a clementine, A summer shadow from a leaning pine, With sap and pollen round its roots — The sound of waters from a distant stream, The feel of sunshine, in a single beam, The first star coming, with its growing gleam … Continue reading "Substitutes"
Balance on the edges; Wondering and waiting. Promises and pledges? Balms to aid abating. Climbing is a college; Testing all our talents — Precipice of knowledge Crest of breadth in balance
The silent hour comes, and when it’s so, We gaze upon an ever-changing flow That we can’t comprehend, or quite take in: But where there are no answers, still we go. When all the things we thought would give us sway Within the silent hour slip away, Then frail and tiny as we are, we … Continue reading "The Silent Hour"
We’d, in summer, see them sitting In their yard, beyond the hollow, From our bikes, the rain permitting: Smiling then, their eyes would follow, Children done with summer play, Heading home at fade of day. One old couple: wrinkled, graying, Side by side with shadows growing: That their hearts for us were praying, We’d no … Continue reading "One Old Couple"
If I can build, with all this time, A life where I’m Less truculent, It’s time well spent. But time’s a changing currency: Not prone to flee The way it would When things were good. So while I’ve time to quarrel now, I find, somehow, To “win”, at best, Is pointlessness
Without, within — from whence comes all the noise? The inner world is sketchy, black and wide: To draw it right, you must have equipoise. The lines need only be as you decide: No other voice can question, or deride — So build the landscapes where you’d love to dwell, And make a temple of … Continue reading "Black and Wide"
Across, beyond, and in between, This is the place where we exist; These limits we can’t contravene — For now, we gaze into the mist. We see the sunlight on the rise, But with the day, will it persist? So much that seems is in disguise: For now, we gaze into the mist. … Continue reading "Kyrielle at Dawn"