Monday, July 26, 2010


A leaf fell in pond.
Many ripples. When they cleared,
Everything had changed.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Danube Dreams

She dreams Danube dreams
in a cruise ship, gazing out.
Never been, wants to go

Who says what may be?
Ideas come and go like clouds
Or river ripples

Blessing is each day
Expand the dream, go forth, see...
To stay is to die

To deny a dream kills
Like taking air from children.
We are all children

Now to decide....Danube?
Elsewhere? Now? Next year? Sweet dreams,

On a map mark it,
Spots you want to go. Dream them.
Travel in or out

Many ways to go.
In dreams, on ships, in deep books...
The quest begins now...

See that cloud above?
See that ripple in the bay?
Someday, I'll be there.

July 20, 2010

Sunday, July 18, 2010

That Grayband Quest

"Don't write of the snake,"
says he. "Write of the hunters."
Visions of epics?

Later, she pauses.
An epic for hunters now?
She thinks of the snake.

Who has a choice here?
Ah! The snake chooses to live.
The men choose to hunt.

Who would choose a cage
For a lifetime home? You? Me?
Why would anyone?

She thinks of the snake
Again. Snakes don't think of us.
Is that the answer?

Why must we rule all?
Why not let be? Live in peace.
Archaic but true.

Okay, hunters, here:
What you take is taken away,
What do you give back?

He searches each year
Each year, others find, but not he.
Elusive for him.

If each year, you look
And others find, but not you,
What is learned from this?

Golden-tongued wisdom...
Always around us. Listen...
Let go and hear it.

No one can tell you
But you. Wisdom speaks softly.
Listen with the heart.

In a quiet room
In the dead of night, or noon
Truth awaits each one.

I hear only mine,
Not the truth of other folks.
My heart beats for me.

Snakes lie in their cage,
Or in a pillowcase wait,
For next feeding time.

No one can answer
But the snake what it prefers.
Hard to heart hunters.

Rooting underdogs
Comes naturally for some.
Overcoming all.

Success is like life,
Always in beholder's eye.
I look at the snake.

July 18, 2010


Curmudgeon hoards snacks
In his room, crumbs everywhere
Cookies are his gold

Each thing has a place
For the old man-- don't move one
Or his world tilts up

Half eaten fudge ages
In a drawer, hardening -- but
Cherished as silver

An apple, red grapes,
These are his jewels, treasured
Until they wither

He doesn't notice
When peach has turned to gray dust,
He lives forever

Each day he gets grapes
From the store, puts them away
For a rainy month

Nearing 100,
He stockpiles pears but not time--
He glares if questioned

The curmudgeon rules
His universe is small, but
All is in reach

He forgets time, but
Remembers meals, eats well, nods,
Is polite to staff

"Leave my things alone!"
Means his universe must stay

A pen moved over
Could change the order of things
He rules in his room

Saturday, July 17, 2010


I sit by trees, lawn
Crow caws, answers... small bird chirps--
Garden symphony

Water sprinkles, sweet
Breezes rustle this and that:
Life breathes. So do I

Green leaves soak up sun
Tangelos dangle, red rose
reaches... I breathe in

If I were a tree
In my garden or a rose,
I'd breathe day and night

I'd never come in
If I lived in my garden
rooted, leaved, breathing

Shall I stay here then?
Outside, always in the air?
Become a Garden Soul?

Do you think they'd let
Me do that? Cross over here,
Become the soft breeze?

I'd sit forever
If I could just be, breathe in
The earth's vibrant self.

Tweet of bird, rustle
Of leaves, a slow constant song
Cycling on and on.

Do you think if all
Folks heard, they'd pause, breathe in, out...
Then go on their way?

Would hearing, pausing
Change us? Or would we just breathe
Then forget we'd stopped?

A tree is blessing
A rose a kiss, wind caress:
How the earth loves us!

Should I care who knows?
It just is, with us, without...
Blessing, waiting, deep

When one's body dies,
Can one stay elemental--
Be a pure being?

For a time at least
That sounds good to me, a pause,
A slow renewing

Seasons do that, too,
Breathe in, breathe out, pause, grow, wait...
Who's wiser -- plants? us?

It's not hard to guess.
Life eternal eternally
Goes forth-- We're extra

5 p.m. Saturday

Friday, July 16, 2010

Summer Fog

7:06 pm, Friday, July 16, 2010

Summer Fog

If I had a camera, I would capture the soft orange brown of those hills yonder neath the lazy river of fog, the orange that seems to burst towards me and then recedes again, as the misty fog descends.

If I had a paint brush that these unskilled hands could paint with, I would color that stand of tall staunch eucalyptus in the park nearby a deep, dark green like a bouquet of giant wintergreen broccoli against the blue gray fog.

Instead, I pick up this pencil and paint with words.

A bloom of bright white glows for a moment over the far off faded brown hills. Nearby, a patch of deep blue blooms for awhile over the park trees, like sapphire through cotton gauze. It’s a thinning of the fog, like a window into the blue sky beyond. A seagull wings past, on his way elsewhere.

Such a moving symphony, this ever changing mist, this light, these shapes, these colors that flow and meander, that sink and rise, that thicken and thin, like a seascape in the sky. Imagine floating in it, on the mists, in the light, like a feather rising and falling. Imagine flying through it, like the gull, wings up, then down, slicing through the air. Twilight by the sea is different than twilight inland. We are in a Breugel softly muted painting, like Landscape with the Fall of Icarus. Where are our wings?

7:34 pm

Sunday, July 4, 2010


Baby Aurora
Smiles her Buddha smile at me
Pleased, serene, calm. Ah!

Like a ray of light
She beams at me. I'm in bliss.
Our shared joy expands.

I come as stranger
Leave as besotted grandma
Surprised, delighted, linked up.

This Soul's connection
Beams with pure clear energy
Eternal as God.