|
|
WRITING
The Garden
Each month the happy gardener cheered with delight,
While his flowers sprang up colorful and bright.
In March, came daffodils to begin the spring,
With the brightest yellow that nature could bring.
In April, grew a wonderful canopy,
With pink and white blossoms of the cherry tree.
In May, peonies played under the bright sun,
Dancing in the gentle springtime breeze with fun.
In June, arum lilies spiraled into cones,
Trumpeting summer’s arrival in jolly tones.
In July, sweet smelling roses bloomed in red,
While their little sharp thorns keep them well guarded.
In August, daisies arrived in pink and blue,
Spreading their lively joy by the bronze statue.
In September, moon vines shined in the fall night,
With large white blossoms that made a lovely sight.
In October, some tree leaves changed their color,
Into shades of brown, red, yellow, and copper.
In November, pompom mums blossomed with cheer,
Unaware that winter was very near.
In December, crocuses emerged in cream,
From the cold winter sleep like a happy dream.
In January, snowdrops braved harsh weather,
Blossoming when other flowers would wither.
In February, an iris bloomed alone,
Making a purple world that was all her own.
Proud of his plants, the gardener put up his rake,
And waited for a fresh new spring to awake.
Dawn
When I rise in the morning to meet the day,
When my past sorrows are just light shades of gray.
When the sun emerges from the dark night,
When it colors the sky with lavender light.
When a white lily bud opens with the dawn,
When its sweet fragrance fills the entire lawn.
When transparent drops collect at a leaf's edge,
When they fall to slide on others like a sledge.
When the lively sprinklers begin to spray,
When little rainbows emerge from their array.
When sweet little blue tits sing for all to hear,
When they dance from tree branch to tree branch with cheer.
When my heart only knows of these darling joys,
When it welcomes them in as delight's envoys.
My world appears like a colorful blessing,
And I celebrate the day by beginning.
In Your Eyes
In your eyes,
I see a way
that I must travel,
until I find your heart,
and when I do,
I will have found
my own center,
a place,
where,
we will live together,
to grow,
to laugh,
to dance,
until time stands still,
and love is
all that we know.
Our Comportment
Did we grow up to be gentle wise sages with perfect comportment?
Are we building bridges to our gentler and wiser ways?
Do we intuitively echo lesser comportment because we like them for whom they are or because we like them for whom they shall one day be after they traverse the bridges that we are building?
Bridges that they are not forced to traverse.
The Sun
The sun was the star whom always still loved all the other stars.
Just before all the other stars would freeze into a self-centered jest or pose,
The sun would selflessly animate them again with his admiration,
With perfecting and stylized and interpretive echoes of the stars rooted in his admiration and his love for them,
Because the sun is the star that always still loved all the other stars.
A Millennial's Portrait
I hope for the future by weaving a vision for myself,
A vision of a brilliant star,
An all too human one,
A vision of a self-portrait of a millennial high on nature and smart technology,
A portrait as nice as my own self-portrait for the new millennium.
Hope for the future,
Hope in a grace that is rooted in one's own observations about oneself,
Perfected smart shoe print records on a smartphone,
Perfected driving patterns on a smart car display,
Perfected cooking techniques on a smart kitchen panel.
Gentler movements,
More ecological choices,
Healthier recipes.
A self-portrait of a graceful millennial,
Always sweet,
Always animated,
Yet all too human,
Already thinking ahead for what's next,
A new look,
A new tune,
A new walk,
A self-portrait of a graceful millennial,
Already personalized and advertised on the new website that she just launched from her new smartphone,
Giving me continued faith in the future,
As did my own self-portrait at the turn of the millennium.
Freedom of Religion
Freedom,
Freedom in America,
Freedom of religion,
Freedom to have faith in anything one wishes to have faith in,
Freedom to have faith in the beauty of the best traditions of art and architecture and their edifying rituals -
Like native dances to honor the Native American's ancestral respect for the land,
And Sufi chants to mourn for the recently departed,
And Anglican hymns to sing like angels,
And Zen meditations for serenity.
Freedom
Freedom in America
Freedom of religion,
Freedom to have faith in anything one wishes to have faith in.
Freedom to have faith in oneself and one's own poetry,
Freedom to have faith in one's own unique poetry for paving new paths for one's own heart,
Freedom to have faith in one's own heart and one's own free thinking.
Freedom
Freedom in America,
Freedom of religion,
Freedom for people from all over the Planet Earth to peacefully coexist together as freethinking human beings who are free to believe in anything they wish to believe in.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|