Someday I will bring this world to its knees for everything that it has done to me.
And while it begs for my forgiveness, I will simply watch as it trembles at the echos of my laugh

Am  i more or less
There is a less that is more
Than I will ever know and
A more that is less than all
i am...So be of Good Cheer
With nothing to fear that will
Not wait till next year that is
Only a thought of  mind walking
Upon a lonely shore thinking of
You again and again. Once more


For Lissa

slowly
we recognize
the shapes again
still hovering between
familiarity and strangeness

gradually
the view becomes accustomed
like in a meeting of old friends
whom years have changed
yet let them keep their essence
that helps us to remember
how we once shared
a space and time
in our lives

eventually
walls become transparent
as we step cautiously
into the new old house
walk over stairs
that lead us
to the rooms we think we know
still apprehensive

they look different now

we balance carefully
between past and present
forever hopeful
we are coming back
to the home
we left
eternities ago

warm for the season
clouds hanging to the ground
hiding the sun
making mid-day feel like dusk

such days may make some folks
forlorn and grey
and they prefer to stay indoors
secluded, warm, in cozy places
practicing various social graces

for me
the blurry silhouettes of familiar shapes
open the doors
to visions of a magic world

the old oak tree down by the grocery
looms huge, somewhat mysterious,
almost a bit uncanny
an ancient giant rising from his lair

the hedges in the garden
have grown into dark vanishing walls
the path between them leading
straight into misty white uncertainty

even my neighbor’s little dog
   appearing suddenly
looks like a werewolf’s tiny brother

I do not bother
nor do I take flight

I am befogged
yet I do recognize
abundant water in the air
enhances our view through ambiguity
makes us enrich our world with meanings
more fantastic
    and quite otherwise
than those when days are clear and bright

If you want to see the light,
OPEN YOUR EYES!

whatever happened to the quiet time
of advent before Christmas day or eve
is certainly remarkable

no other time of our year
has managed to become so  noisy,
commercialized, stuffed full of special sales
with permahyped unique occasions
that only last for a few hours

Black Friday has become national hysteria day
people camping out overnight before the supermarkets
to be the first  
     waving on television
diving into the pool of wonderful things on sale
victoriously placing them under their Xmas trees

the stress this timely acquisition
requires from the donors
just adds another extra to the planning of their days

no time is left for quiet contemplation

and so
what used to be the day to celebrate the birth
of our Christian savior
has turned into a goods exchange
where size and value of bright packages
are meant to substitute
affections muted by the daily chores

maybe a more spiritual mood
might take us back to the original wonder

a legendary birth in that old world of yonder