Choreography of a Fisher

the eagle
the osprey
wingbeat for wingbeat
swoop for swoop
wheeling and diving
then the fish drops
slipped from the grasp of the osprey
the eagle
like a rock
plunges
to rise again
triumphant
with its plunder

Insomnia

Watching.

As the moon’s bright orb

slides across my windowpane.
Soft breathing,
And counting heartbeats,
Lead me to the precipice.  

Hope

With all that is hurled upon us,

it can be difficult to believe
that kindness exists.

I am firm in my own belief
that the world exudes its own kindness,

and as a result,
we are immersed in it.

Be kind to the perceived unkind,

and seek the compassionate.

For they are there. 

Correction Line

Occasionally, I sense the earth has taken a great shift.
But, in looking up, the stars are the same,
And the sun still rises in the east.
I then understand; it is I who has taken the curve,
And a new perspective launches into focus.

The Cold Solstice

Rejoice now the inequality of the day,
For once more we persist toward symmetry.

The moon round and bright will light the way,
As souls ripen to warmth before the yule.

Constellations pulse coldly holding the dark at bay,
While hearty radiance spills from festive chambers.

For this is where we touch; midway,
Then on to where the sunlight will conquer the night.

Seeing November

If I had pastels in shades of grey,
These are the colours I’d give the day.

If I had crayons of the deepest white,
I'd save these all for the moonlit night.

If I had pencils in sepia brown,
Herein this manner I'd forge the town.

If I had paints of watery blue,
I'd sweep the sky from within this hue.

If I had pens in monochrome fill,
It's these I'd wash across every hill.

If I had brushes of satin sheen gold,
I'd stain bleak meadows to reflect its cold.

If I had charcoal in black like pitch,
Their tips I'd sharpen to shade my niche.

Alas it's purely my own mind's eye,
In my head alone do these tinctures lie.

Mona Lisa Smile

Amid the diesel and through the dust,

Between the metal and the rust,

I have yet to discern why,

A certain glimmer caught my eye.

Perhaps it was within a glance,

Or the clash of fate and that of chance,

To cause this sparking of the minds,

That often seeks a bond that binds.

Rumbling gears they shook the ground,

The assault of steel an enormous sound.

Yet there remained a glint of quiet,

Hidden behind the mud and the riot.

Surrounded by such clamour and mess,

There appeared very little to impress.

To unearth this glitter amidst the muck,

Could not be purely borne by luck.

As sunbeams slanted across the mire,

The moments pledged to never tire.

So through it all the twinkle remained,

And the glimpses shy were never feigned.

Alas the season passed unknown,

And the sunlit days we had since flown.

I was struck by a gleam amid the grime,

Yet know full well I have done my time.

From here I choose to always see,

This deep reflection of not just me.

His glowing countenance held no guile,

None... but a Mona Lisa smile.

Waking

Soft breathing
in the early morning darkness.
The animals stir and the house hums
in undertones.
The day's renewed promise
hovers in the corner.
And patiently
we await the dawn.

Mirror

I had a dream
That when I looked into the mirror
Past my shoulder
The impossible was possible.

Scarlet

I believe I met a dragon

All sparkly, red, and bright. 

She held me gently in her arms

While I dreamed on through the night.

Beyond

Love

Peace

Happiness 

We have the power to hope for this upon any day of the year!

2016

There is no lonelier feeling than stuffing one's own Christmas stocking.

Portents

Bird song,
silent.
Sunrise,
but a mere,
soft lessening of the darkness.
Wind,
not a breath sighs in the still.
Mournful,
the train's distant call escapes,
winding itself into the landscape,
and is lost.
The storm,
stealthy in her advance,
waits not.

Once

Love at first sight?
If naught but a glance
that caresses the soul, pauses the heart,
and whispers... come hither.
I believe.

Blue Moon

Glorious,
she rises.
Creating ripples
in black and white against the night.

Tangled

Alone.
And Sadness Settles.
Stark Dreams.
And Longing.
If Wishes were Horses.
And Beards in the Dark on a cold New England night.
Tears.
Tears fall soft.
And Brittle.
Cold in the Blue.
Time Passes.
The Days continue.
Their Shattered edges
Threaten.
Just get me home.

Blossom

There is no sweeter thing in life
Than to feel love grow ...

The Fire Moon

Through the smoke of distant fire
Drawn into the dusky sky,
Growing stronger - rising higher
There it met my eye.
Its glow was sure - a firey red,
A pagan sight, it's true.
From the sleeping sun it fed,
And yet it was quite blue.

The Aviary

Robins sparring.
Sparrows flitting.
Herons flapping slowly.
Ospreys crying.
Flickers twitching.
And eagle screams unholy.

Geese are settling.
Ravens circling.
Mergansers diving deeply.
Wood ducks squawking.
Hummers darting.
And owls that question creepily.

Hawks up soaring.
Blackbirds warbling.
Doves mindful of their mourning.
Pigeons swooping.
Killdeers flopping.
And crows screech out a warning.

Lawns of jade.
And indigo skies.
The lake is flashing sapphire.
Branches bow.
The meadows sigh.
I'm so grateful that I sat here!

Spring!

sunshine
skis
soft snow
and smiles