Many who claim to lead 
Are mere followers 
Of crowd, greed, or lust -- 

While others lead 
No one and hence lead 
No one astray

Moss laden grandmothers, 
In sunshine, shivering even so, 
Stylish in grace

Lost and sinking, 
Pulled up by the sunset, 
Breathing in bliss, 

A myriad of interpersonal offenses 
Scattered like seedlings: 
The vanishing dust of evening

Character defining whimsy, 
Or destiny-shaping missing the point? -- 
You can decide. 

Much of what we do 
Points exactly nowhere, 
And to what we aren't

How can we change others 
Living the sameness 
That is our wanderer's destiny?

The crusades of the unaware 
Lost in irony 
Chasing after light and shadow

I was dreaming the rain
Would shelter families
Like ours, that were drowning

Because expecting help
From what is hurting you
Is human, indeed

My children grew up, but

Left their voices

Still echoing in the backyard