Hope
The song that perched within my soul
And sang from branches high
Has flown to trees on higher peaks
And left my heart behind.
Category: Writing
Hestia
“The worshipped has become
The pilgrim; straining, burning, dying,
For a chance to change
What is written in the stars.”
Marking Time with a Cricket
“Then a lone cricket starts playing his tune into the dark silence.
It makes me feel wonderfully small and inconsequential to mark time with a cricket…”
Grave at the Quiet Bend
“The fingers of shadow lengthen
Along the quiet bend
Of the road that runs from East to West
Beside the grave of a friend.”
To Grandma on Ezekiel’s Birth
ShareThis poem was written just a few days after my firstborn son was […]
Vanishing Point
“…I close my eyes at journey’s end, and sit beneath the shade.
The heat of travel flows from my fingertips and toes to the soil beneath me,
The earth returns a cool stillness in trade.
I open my eyes to the golden touch of sundown.
The last rays illuminating the treasure I have traversed.
There is no hurry in me now and so I remember…”