Cherry Blossoms
I sit in the midst of
A storm of pink petals ~
Fluttering down from
The cherry trees
Across the way~
A whimsical breeze ~
Threads through the
Branches ~
Pulling the fragile
Blossoms ~
By the
Thousands ~
In its wake ~
And I’m transfixed
And enchanted ~ and
Longing for more ~
Moments like these ~
Lurk around every
Corner ~ invisible
To all but the
Watchful heart ~
For it is through the
Eyes of the heart ~
That Truth and
Beauty are discerned ~
As I truly am
The stars call out my name ~
In alien tongues I don’t
Know how I understand ~
The sickle moon smiles
Down on me ~ and
Dawn is hours away ~
Accountable to no man
While I sleep ~
These hours are mine ~
The only time I can
Be truly who I am ~
A work in progress still ~
Clay-footed when my
Soul desires to soar ~
Yet I press on ~
My progress may at times
Seem nonexistent ~
But I keep the flame of
Faith alive ~ through
Every trial that besets me ~
For I have learned
While on my journey ~
That God ~
And the Universe ~
Help those
Who help themselves ~
There’s a thing
I’ve noticed
About beauty ~
It seems the
Moment beauty
Is observed ~
It starts to fade ~
Perhaps it cannot
Withstand ~
The pitiless and
Unending scrutiny ~
Of those who would
Possess it ~
Sully it with
Their greedy hands ~
Their lustful eyes ~
Or perhaps it is
As a wise man said ~
That familiarity
Breeds contempt ~
Maybe it is
Something in our
Human nature ~
That causes us to
Look for flaws ~
Or perhaps we are
Simply grown jaded ~
And must be
Forever on the hunt
For something newer ~
More exciting ~
Or mayhap it is
Simply that there
Is that in us ~
Which would see
Beauty ~
Brought down ~
It’s eighteen minutes
Till December ~
The street lights
Sparkle down ~
On the rain-wet
Pavement ~ and
I fear that it will
Wash away
The sidewalk art ~
Where leaves have
Left their images ~
Imprinted on the
Unforgiving concrete ~
The water overruns
The gutters
As I watch ~ and
Hapless pansies
Are drowned
In the flood ~
Their bodies
Strewn like victims
Of a mass
Extinction ~
Or of a singularity ~
The symbol
In astronomy of
A black hole ~
And I marvel ~
At how even
Rain and flowers ~
Follow the laws
Of the Universe ~
Ah, the breeze.
The cool night breeze ~
Suddenly huffs
Through my window ~
Pouring itself
Over every available
Inch of skin ~
Lulling me into
A languorous mood ~
Caressing my flesh ~
As it alternately
Teases and calms
My jangled nerves ~
The air is so fresh ~
It smells of freedom
And of faraway places ~
I fill my lungs and
Somehow I fill
My heart as well ~
And thus it is
That I go on ~
When all my hope
Should have
Been gone ~
Once more the spark
Within me is ignited ~
And I remember ~
That oxygen makes fire
Burn all the brighter ~
The Music Says It All. (Daehyun Park via Flickr)
I am longing for beauty and warmth ~
For color and sunlight on this dreary
White-skied day nine weeks from Spring ~
After the glory of multi-hued holiday
Decorations ~ this season of the year seems
Like a penance or a punishment ~
With no time off for good behavior ~
I have already braved the icy winds
Once ~ fighting to keep my umbrella
Turned right-side-out and my hat on ~
And now I watch with jaundiced eye
As icy rain smears itself across the panes ~
Ravel’s “Bolero” pours from the speakers ~
Impassioned notes that labor to dispel
The chill of this winter-dark afternoon ~
I sit up taller and unconsciously my body
Turns and yearns toward the source of
All that liquid beauty, those singing
Strings, the spear-like bursts of sound ~
From the bright gleaming brass, with
The underbeat of the drums throbbing
And urging me toward an end I do not
Comprehend but am quite unable to resist ~
And while the chords rush toward the final
Crescendo, my soul is ravished and on fire ~
In a consummation of beauty and music
And the words that cannot describe it
This side of heaven ~
Crescent Moon
The surface of the
Water dances ~
As the wind
Passes by ~
The sky is a
Brilliant blue ~
With tiny wisps
Of cloud ~
Palm trees rustle
In the slight
Cool breeze ~
A bright white
Contrail ~
More than the jet
That precedes it ~
Draws my eye
Upward ~
And in its wake
To my surprise ~
The merest hint
Of an infant
Crescent moon
Appears ~
How lovely ~
I sit in my chair
And gaze up to
The heavens ~
So still I feel, as
I contemplate
My part in this
Cosmic journey
Undertaken by
Us all ~
Filled with a peace
I have never
Felt before ~
At one with
The Universe ~
As I have never
Been before ~
But the moment
Passes and I am
Myself once more ~
Waiting for the
Next moment
Out of time ~
Christmas Tree
Christmas lights drape every window
Though there’s not a hint of snow
I could hear the church bells ringing
As I hung the mistletoe
Familiar songs play everywhere
And signs count down the shopping days
Santa’s enthroned in his big red chair
At the mall while elves fill up his sleigh
Even Ebenezer Scrooge would smile
To see the happy children’s faces
The reindeer will fly for many a mile
As through the night dear Santa races
Bringing stockings, gifts and Christmas joy
To fill the hearts of each girl and boy!
It Blooms Because It Must
I am opening myself, body, mind and heart, for the first time in days, no weeks, edging towards months, that the words have not flowed, and I have felt so cut off and so alone, away from the fire that has warmed my frozen bones ere now. Come back, I know you’re out there. I know you’re waiting for me, and the key which seems to be mislaid, to unlock the floodgates and let it all come swarming in again. I have been bereft without the passion that warms my blood and keeps my senses alive and questing. Ah, here it comes, I can feel the movement, feel the slumberous spell sloughing off in waves as it all begins to flow again, to move within my brain and heart and nudge the words loose, make space for all the new growth, the new ideas, the new moods and needs and desires and the total unwillingness to give in, to let what is be enough, when I know it never can be ~ not for me with all the questions racing still through my brain and my life, and I know the answers are out there. It’s just a matter of connecting the two and finding the perfect ones as the light burns ever brighter and closer and I race, I race, to keep up as the tempo surges and I must catch up, there are words I must hear, carried in the wind moving ever and always away from me. I must be very quick to hear them, with all their nuances and meanings, just for me. And the music pours over me like honey, this is right, this is perfect and meant to be from the time before time was measured in the tiny increments of hours, minutes, days, this is from a time when it was all beginning and a time that will never end and I will search and search for the elusive answers as I travel down this road which owns me and my tired feet. I will send you word when I am able . . .
Roses for my City of Roses
My apartment perches
Atop its tier of four
Where I look out into the
Treetops that surround me.
In winter when the branches
Are bare and sere and twin
In color to the leaden sky,
They still are beautiful to see.
The longest and the coldest
Of the three autumns I have
Passed here, the rainiest and
Grayest I have yet endured,
Will in the end be only water
For my City of Roses
