Striving Toward Uncertain Destiny

Fox Hill Evening

With each poem I write

I know that one day I will die more easily,

Having put in words what is found within my heart.

These days, few can say what it means

To be fully human— to give definition

When we cannot know what consciousness means,

Where mind and body intersect with memory and soul.

So I cannot give you more clear answer

Than to say I am a seeker,

In search of myself as much

As I study books, gaze in wonder at the stars,

Contemplate the mystery of the number three.

Perhaps I am not more or less ignorant than others,

Though slowly as I advance through years

I’ve begun to listen to whispers of my blood.

My life has not been sweet or easy;

No claim of innocence or huge confession of guilt.

Like most of those who have worked hard to stop

Deceiving themselves, I seek clarity

That is learned within humility.

I spend lonely hours found in silent nights

Tasting both of confusion and delight.

Each day I pray. Each day I laugh and cry

At the pain and absurdity of the times in which we live.

With luck, I occasionally take a few steps on the road

Leading toward deeper sense of self.

Some days, the best I find is an awkward road

Or worse, a place within dark woods

Where trees converge, revealing only trace of a trail.

There are times I sort out

Distant memories almost hidden,

Sorting through broken eggshells of my past,

Wade through primordial slime where

Frogs and salamanders are at home.

Other days I soar with eagles through shimmering air.

All enter and exit through the same doors of birth and death.

The noble question is where within our depths

We find our uncertain destiny, begin to understand ourselves,

Find others who walk a common path, sharing common goals

So that we discover greater compassion and love.

We live each day only once, and then never again.

Only here, within the hours of each day

Can we find what is most significant and sacred.

I Will Follow Not Far Behind

road to nowhere

There are streams that run through hills

Yet never find the sea;

Just as snow that falls in winter’s cold

That may not melt for years and years.

Roads lead down to places

Where no one has ever gone…..

On and on it goes until it ends by caves

So deep the sun has never shone.

Does it make much difference

Where the stream begins

Or where the cave concludes in stone?

Perhaps the voyage is all that counts—

That we sleep under stars, hear the ocean waves,

Dream of pathways only seen at night.

Wander down whatever road that calls;

I will follow not far behind, until we meet by light of moon.

Gods Are In Charge of Holiness


Last night the frogs were croaking on the lake,

Warm August breeze blowing romance….

And the stars— my God the stars reached

Beyond their beauty, ever slow as they moved.

The gods are in charge of holiness, and this night

Perseid reigned, vaporized so high above

Only prayer could touch or comprehend.

I remind myself those falling stars

Now streaking overhead as wishes

Are but debris— dust and ice

Radiant as they burn and die.

They rain; they burn and shed their skin

As each of us must do one day,

Best seen at dawn—death comes

With early morning light when everyone

Is most alone with God.

Do you think they scream in pain?

Will you when your celestial

Passage comes some dark night?

Will someone be there, hold your hand,

Pull up a chair, eat snacks as you

Breath your last, in clear weather or foul

Sail forth, eyes open one last time

Until you are returned to merely dust, forever.

Soul On Fire

Soul on Fire

Soul On Fire

When the soul is on fire,

So much freedom in the flames.

Free to release what’s hidden down inside…

Do you feel like dancing in the heat?

Do you babble, like the brook down the road?

Do you beg? Do you pray? Do you cry?

It may be true, that I write only to me.

Yet you are here in my mind,

Whether or not I know your name.

Come sit beside me and say hello. It’s been too long.

Let’s share as we’ve never shared before.

How long since you’ve been free to be you?

Are we strangers? Of course—

Usually, I’m a stranger to myself!

No wonder we share tension of loneliness.

At night, I hear the wind whisper:

“Read Me! Hear my voice and listen!”

And I know that Love has come to rescue me.

Within the flames of Love, I am born again.

Born in freedom to find what’s deep inside.

Why else, after all, would I write poetry?

Follow Your Grief

Follow Your Grief

Follow your grief for three days,

Like a hunter tracking wounded prey,

Carefully looking for blood upon the way.

Go down to the shore of the lake alone,

Where the white deer lies exhausted—

Having refused to enter dark water to save its life.

Be respectful in the silence…

Where only your own breath disturbs the tranquil air,

Your heart pierced by what you cannot hear or see.

Watch as shadows formed by Sun

Slowly lengthen to encompass both you and deer,

Life and death held, embraced and kissed in gentle light.

There is no need to speak.  No words will come.

One single tear forms within your eyes,

Then slowly falls upon your cheek.

So What Do We Say About Love?

What About Love?

It took me months to finally realize

Your essence was most visible when you are absent,

My mind seeing you more clearly at night than in day,

Remembering your scent, your smile, the way you kiss—

These things that lingered only in memory.

As I now recall, your eyes seemed to have

Their own gravitational pull, still they tug at me even now

When I don’t want to remember quite so vividly—

But I do, especially at night as I always do.

Are you haunted by memory of how tenderly we touched?

If you are not, then I am utterly alone.

Maybe I love you and can’t see you’ve left me.

So I try to avoid the thought that you’re gone—

Which scares me to think I’m now in love with a ghost.

What can I do but sit under the Moon for hours?

Never would I bind you by promise, by obligation—

As though the ring you once wore would remind you

That I gave you my heart…. Do you remember that day,

So far away when we had no need of memory because

You were here, when we touched as we dared get close?

Lewis writes that grief feels much like fear—

It is not fear, but it feels cold and quietly comes

With fluttering in the stomach. Is the same true of love?

Love can bring sharp clarity. But clarity sometimes brings confusion

As the dance brings you close, then spins you further away.

So what do we say about love?

That as we love, we always learn humility.

We love someone enough to respect the wisdom

Of another who gives grace to our life.

And if suffering is part of love, then I am content to suffer.

Meanwhile, the World Awakens

Meanwhile, the World Wakes Up

In the beginning, there was the voice of the Father

Speaking not with words, but music, rising,

Falling as does thunderous beauty,

Parting a small opening in the soul

Where only tears could flow.


Then last night’s gentle rain

Seemed to heal as it brought relief,

Greening to this wondrous world….

Slowly, beyond ability of conscious mind to grasp,

Sleeping as it tends to do through night.


This morning when I woke, there was

Mist upon the lake, floating without limits,

Beyond boundaries imposed by any human,

Touching blinking eyes, the naked skin of body—

Cooling as every thirsty pore was satisfied.


But the marvel had not finished

As Old Buttery Fingers of the Sun reached out,

Parted floating fog— brought clarity

As first the mountain emerged,

Then peaceful lake reflected patient beauty.


This beauty did not thunder, but was gentle—

Quiet morning light told stories long forgotten

Of small island in the lake.

Perhaps the promise of the dream

Had not come true, but there is still time.


Meanwhile, the world awakens—

Chorus of birds disturb the nesting swans—

They spread white wings and swim together,

Paddling furiously so hidden turtles

Will not divide and kill their young.


All I now know is that I am not alone.

There is no need to worry about

What seems yet unprepared by wordless prayer.

I am in love. I could not ask for more

Than time enough to share this love with you.