A special day
A wondrous day
A profound day
A day filled with happy moments
Of hope for the future
A day filled with sadness
And reflections of the past
Opening a window
Turning the key in the lock
That closes the door
And opens on the other side
Of the ocean
A chasm crossed physically
And metaphorically
A lifetime ahead
Filled with hope and dreams
Love and laughter
A special day
A wondrous day
A profound day

11/22/18

Meditation in motion
Slow locomotion
The torch of devotion

Van Gogh pervades the air
Mounds of color
Broad free strokes
Freedom unleashed
I look at his work
I look at mine
Starry Night
Am I an extension?
A continuation
In the process
Toward a final goal?
Toward freedom?
Removing the shackles of history
Preventing in his lifetime
The glories remaining unsung
Canvasses unpainted
A chance encounter with fate
And yet I watch
As my hand swiftly crosses the canvass
And I wonder
Would I be here?
Would we all be here?
Are our lives enriched
By his struggle?
Do I face a blank, white canvass
With his eyes?
Do his shadows become mine?
Does the light reflect
As he saw in Arles,
Transcending time?
Enigma
Un-defined
Holding the ghost of reality
Penetrating timeless vacuums
Unable to escape
Unwanting to escape
Unanswered questions
Of metamorphosis
Of passion and devotion
Passed through the ionosphere
Permeating the atmosphere
Filling the crevasses of his life
Of our lives
Of my hand and eyes
Seeing his brush-strokes come alive
Transmutations founded at the precipice
Of a cliff’s edge
To linger in other hands
In my hands
Holding a brush
Dripping color
Blown by the winds of time
Inheritance
The future untold
Perseverance
Preoccupation
Permanence
A legacy of searching
Fulfilled in eternity
In a single drop
Of color

11/20/18

A seesaw of emotions
Depending on the day
Elevated to Shangri-La
Or thrown into Hades lake

Fascination with the moments
Of a love that seemed to fade
No longer the bright responses
That took my breath away

In unison without breathing
Oxygen depleted by words
And longing for that single thought
That transforms an empty heart

Oh too many tears now
Have brought me to this point
Of total isolation
Waiting for a simple retort

Another day will pass now
And the seesaw shifts in place
Which way it will go tomorrow
Unending torment in its wake

A seesaw of emotions
No longer ringing true
Fearing the future mocking
And fate’s gigantic mistake

8/23/18

Feel for the lowly yoyo
Bouncing across a tennis court
Propelled by the racket’s action
Pulled back by the yoyo’s string

A word or a phrase would do him
To give him hope or loss
No matter which direction
He hears the racket’s ping

A lowly yoyo has no life
Made of wood and cloth
A string that breaks too easily
If action would only bring

A happy ending to the yoyo
That never asks for more
Then riding on the current
Of love’s golden wing

Take care of the lowly yoyo
Keep him close to your heart
Never forget the lowly yoyo
For true love he will sing

8/22/18

The river of time
Flows through the essence
Of human existence
Forging canyons in the soul

Following a path
Of its own creation
Leaving silt in its wake
Stones along the shore

Rapids interrupt
Its meandering migration
As the current overtakes
Rocks scattered in the bed

Casting spray on daydreams
Leaving empty holes
Where the future
Would have been

The river holds the mem’ries
Of sailors long since gone
Waiting for new entries
Dragged against their will

Shadows from the trees
Quiver in the wind
Darkening the river’s path
Where sunshine should have been

Shallow pools created
As the river branches off
An oasis holding time
That the current ignored

Skipping stones on the surface
Thrown by people on the shore
Setting off vibrations
Concentric circles spreading out

Fastening forever
As the ripples disappear
Time alone remembers
The river that flows along

Leaving empty caverns
Cut in solid stone
That once had happy endings
Before the ebb and flow

The first snow
Early this year
The middle of November
Wiping away years
Of deprivation
Awakening the senses
Of cold refreshing renewal
As frozen water
Sprinkles down and
Melts against my face and clothes
Tiny sculptures
Crafted by nature
To enlighten the soul
A shower of fluff
A curtain of a
New reality
Carrying me away
As it coats the ground
With whiteness
And yet it engulfs me
Like a blanket
Of quiet and stillness
That only snow can bring
Settling my spirit
In a new state of repose
And a grandeur of
Quietude
Thank you snow

11/15/18