How can I see the light retreat

And hear the chirp of the crickets

Replace the Cicadian beat

Or feel the bite of the morning chill

Without mourning every joy I did greet

In every person I did meet

In my life and all the warm moments

I felt as mine in summertime?

A lesser man would be waiting

For the dead of winter

Already in the cold

If he had not felt the sadness of this loss before,

In a score of autumns,

Hundreds of days,

Thousands of times

Of reverie and regret

At some experience of forfeit.

Yet I do not count myself rich

For their remembrance,

Except that I can rise above the tears

And can love

From the silence and the solitude

Of the winter soon upon us.

2013.09.23.1500   ©

The God of our reflection is

The reflection of our God

In the lives of every one of us

And the fortunes of our lot

When we find that God is right before us

In the moments He hast wrought

In what is real and what is not

For those we know.

Can I find my own reflection in that journey?

Such that I can hear and see a silent sense

That would turn my past and future questioning visions

Into only what is God in the present tense.

2013.09.23.1700 ©

I will not permit fear to impact the freedom

That is born within me, my own inalienable right;

I will cultivate the holy ground from which it springs;

I will seek it in the dark and in the light;

I will listen for its whisper in the silence,

So that others may its beauty also hear;

I will cherish it in summer and in winter;

I will hold it close, my soul, so ever dear.

I wish though I could say I really felt the freedom

That I long for oh so dearly in my soul

But the bonds of war and human interaction

Would consume my drive and keep me in the fold;

Where my love must rival freedom as the banner

That would crown my noble efforts with the gold.

2013.07.02.0430 ©

The temptation is over; thank God, my soul,

Neither I, nor my pleasure, does this life control;

Yet Order is what the heavens are made of

And Love keeps all things in their place

Or moving with the proper attitude,

Proximity, inclination, direction and grace.

Each moment is a wonderful creation,

An orchestration finely in tune

That never delivers anything too late

Or inappropriately without something to groom.

We are all in the mind and eye of the Beholder

Beautiful and thoughtfully made

Trying to live up to His expectation

Striving to make the grade;

To be a part of the flow of the universe,

To fit therein without rankle or distress,

To see holy in the confines of a world that is too mortal,

To find beauty in the midst of a mess.

2013.05.01.0600 ©

Finding myself nothing asks me

To sense only the night;

To see the light of the ages reflecting

From the heavens,

Giving this time and this space

A glimpse of eternal being;

To hear the sound of silence

Echoing forever,

Moment after moment,

Engulfing any feeble call heard now;

To feel a solitude that frees my soul

From the confines of a present

To which I could callously cling;

To know with absolute certainty

Under the tutellage of faith

That the light will return

And a new day brimming with life

Will come anon.

2013.04.28.0200 ©

Stones are pieces of the mountain of God

That one day will be soil for the seeds

To root and to grow into flowers and grains

That man’s soul and his body needs.

Eternity is waiting upon everything

Though some would lose sight in their place

Forgetting life belongs to the heavens above

And creation depends on God’s grace.

2013.04.21.0600 ©