Archive for October, 2016

five smooth stones

We speak lightly

Of giants falling


But say,

“It is not for me.

My past, you see.

My marriage.

My loneliness.

It would be nice

but it was

so three-thousand-years-ago.”

We sit in wishes

In a dry creek bed

never seeing

the smooth stones

strewn about

As if finely placed.


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black raven silhouette

How could it be

That, at the head of all times

We, who see the past

and shake our heads

or nod knowingly

asking of them, how could they?

Could be at that point

That point of which we fear

Where we said we’d never go

We, who know better

We, who have seen the past

And vowed not to repeat


Allow anger



to take us right back

Will they look back at us

one hundred years from now

And ask

How could we?

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A Wanderer’s Return

Wandering, in heart, from home

Floundering, as lost at sea

Willowing, the rain, like tears

Billowing, as waves, the fears

Waiting home on knees in prayer

A father’s love would hope to share

Wakening, from sleep, so blind

Loftiness, collapsed on sand

Sorrowing, the work of death

Recognized, the shame, the loss

Grace and mercy call from Light

Running to the son in sight

Covering the choice, the sin

Ushering within the door

Celebrate, the song of love

Wanderer now turned to home

Riotous, the trademark broken

Righteous, over him is spoken

Embracing love, the Father’s token

Poem a Day #48, October 4, 2015

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ash butterfly

If your only ideas

Lie in things

What of things

That are not things

But ideas

Or simply but not so simple


resting a moment

brushing against

the mind

the heart

the soul

And springing up into beauty



Photo by Jim Hoffman

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