In Front Of Me

The solitude of the forest

and the serenity of the day

planted itself in front of me

and I navigated slowly

through its immense corridors

where there was no sound

save the rustling of leaves.

I felt most alive,

lost in this private world

and was free to dream

moment by moment

until the day

slowly

fell

away.

Something Invisible Was Expressed

Relaxed in pose

and dangling precariously

on the line,

the freshly hung laundry

schemed of ways

to encourage my attention.

But I did my best

to overthrow

each word.

Yet, something invisible

was expressed

within that breathless

atmosphere.

They say

it is the minute details

of our lives out of which

the larger meanings emerge – 

where creative expression

bides its time.

Yesterday's Images

Stooping to quench my thirst

on this hot autumn day,

I began, in earnest,

to pull yesterday's images

from the crest of my thoughts.

Without warning,

I was side-swiped

by a blinding free-fall of light, 
flaring across the left side
of my profile.

Squinting sporadically

against this unwarranted glare,

I strained to catch a distant glimpse

of the most beautiful image,

openly peering into

the depth of my soul.

In this distance, 

I could sense the presence

of a higher voice trying
desperately to awaken my attention, 

while the image embraced me

within the cloak of its protection.

Suddenly, 
the voice cried out
a challenge…

It called on me

to rise early tomorrow,

to bear witness

to the day

set before me.

Experience everything,
the voice echoed…

A gift? 

Perhaps.

Offered
at that precise moment

when a plethora
of different emotions

pulsed inside, 
instilling a strong
melancholic ache,

as reflected in my mood.

Standing outside,

facing today,

I look inward,

imagining nothing.

It is only

in the metrics

of this season

that I am

immersed

and therefore,

blessed.

In the silence

of this moment.

my thirst is slaked.

A gift perhaps.

Some Say

A word is dead

When it is said,

Some say.

I say it just

Begins to live

That day.

IMAGINE

Think Peace. 

Act Peace. 

Spread Peace.

Imagine Peace.

You may say that I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope some day you'll join us

And the world will be as one.

Otherwise, It Wouldn't Be

And the amorous dream

finally bursts open

as this stranger comes

to us beautiful losers

once again, unbidden - 

according a voice

from the highest reaches

in his tower of song,

and the most gorgeous music

you might ever witness,

conciliates then heals,

1,000 kisses deep. 

Ameliorated, you stand

in the lush dark

of that glorious moment

and begin yourself, 

to lift up your voice

in song.

Like a bird on a wire,

you sing -

then louder and louder

you wail for a while,

until humbly, you move on

from where you were standing,

and the moon in the distance

shines a little brighter,

and then just a little bit more. 

Appeased,

you feel blessed,

honored by the embrace

of a Love

so profound.

. . . . 

Leonard Cohen is such an exemplary, erudite orator of the masses, whose beautiful translations are always rendered with an unmatched first-class elegance. Truly, Madly and Deeply, the rejoicing heart knows and shares the charity of love. Otherwise, it wouldn't be...

See How It Paces

All over again, there it is,

the theme – autumn's mystery.

What is it about its

ethereal nature that cleverly

influences our mood?

Can you hear the

sparseness of prose

as life folds in

all around.

Autumn's atmosphere

of decay produces in me

a psychological

empathy of sorts.

Look how this leaf,

dances, not alone,
but attached, like glue,
to the cast of its shadow,
impervious to its beauty

and the way in which

 it aggrandizes

my fascination –

just as the season

demands it surrender.

Why look,
see how it
paces.

Every Time We Fall