Sighs

Sighs

There are days I want to quit my poetry

Then I have to ask the question “why?”

It seems no one really reads it much

No one really cares

It seems if there’s no wild video attached

Nothing that catches stares

Then it is to be avoided, discarded

We can’t be wasting time with things that don’t waste our time

I must ask the question “Why?” again

But this time for why I write to begin

With

See, I get to play with words

I get to express my joys

Wrestle with concerns

I guess it really doesn’t matter if it’s read or not

Though it would be nice to see who’s in the same lot 

As I 

I sit here and release a sigh

That seems to come from a deeper place

I wonder if my soul, my face

Will ever find what it’s meant to be looking for

A random line, a menial chore

All these things seem to break into the existence

A copied lung, a bleak resistance

I go dwelling in worlds I know nothing about

Places where quiet, not screams or shouts

Tend to draw the most attention

Do you ever sense the power of tension?

I surely do. Every day.

It seems to be the life, the way

Of living life like there is no tomorrow

Empty Train

Empty Train

I was sitting in the park today

Reading a good book

Watching my young children play

I heard the sound of the approaching train

Off in the distance

Beyond the river

The train came by

Crossing the river on the great, high bridge

Making quite the commotion

Stopping the traffic

Turning heads

No longer reading, I felt a notion

Then I noticed something

The engines were pulling nothing

Nothing but empty cars

No goods

No solutions

Nothing, nothing at all

Just empty car after empty car

Disrupting the placidity of the afternoon

At first I thought

“What a waste,

What a waste of time, of resources

What a waste to haul nothing around at all.

All this nothing cacophony disturbing our thrall.”

But then I thought, “What if they are returning the emptiness

To the place where it can be filled again?”

What if wisdom, our eternal friend,

Is trying to teach me to see things in a whole new way?

What if wisdom is trying to say

“Don’t assume all of this emptiness is a waste”?

Sometimes I have to give up the less I’m holding onto

In order to grasp the more

Sometimes I have to carry my emptiness

To a place where I can be filled again, implore

I must cross the rivers, traverse the mountains

Find someone with whom I can be a friend

Make plenty of noise for all to know

My emptiness is there for fulness to flow

Turn Aside (again)

In a year where I am convinced a major theme for me is “Rest and Restoration” I have had some crazy, crazy days. So much so I haven’t written much at all. So the other day I am heading in for another busy day, and….well…I’ll let the poem tell you the rest.

Turn Aside

I was simply marching this morning

Marching as I always do

Day after day

An obedient servant to the power of the clock

Time marches on, so must I

So must I in this eye for an eye world

But then

I looked to the right

It was the sunlight

I hadn’t seen it for days

The yellow-orange clouds and haze

Diffused the light into my very soul

I felt it enter in

And beckon me to turn aside

I paused, just for a moment

The green, wet grass was the forbidden path

The concrete pointed my appointed way

But I decided to do something very different this day

I turned aside

I walked a short way

The closer I came to the mountains distant

The brighter the sunlight became

I came to the place where I could no longer go

Knowing now the day would no longer be the same

I just stood there

Sunlight peaking over Mount Lassen

Mists spreading through the valley

There was such a beauty there it could not be denied

there was a magic released when I turned aside

As I stood there I felt I must take a photo

I took it

But it did not do the scene justice

One could not feel the invigorating air

One could not hear the birds song rising

One could not sense the peace of compromising

All that I knew to be right for this beauty

I finally had to go my way

I wished in this moment I could longer stay

But the sun was rising

The light hurting my eyes

I was glad to observe the colors of skies

That I would never have noticed 

Without turning aside

Eighteen Theme

I hadn't written any poetry yet for 2018, but today it simply began to flow and I just went with it. I think the theme of 2018 is going to be rest and restoration, and what brings that about is beauty and joy and delight. So, I hope that this piece will get your year started off in a great direction, and may you know all that is good in this upcoming year. :)

Eighteen Theme

I have felt a call from the ancients

To come and see where I came from
To join in and listen to the songs, the prayers

The sayings, the wisdom

Things that were thought long-forgotten

But, no, 

They still live deeply within our very souls

I hear the bass tones, stirring

My heart cries out, “Go there, go there now!”

Of course all the science behind my brow

Just rolls its eyes in a slumber

A slumber induced by the intoxicating opiate

Of pride in the midst of ignorance

I have long since began walking toward the sound

I have just started to place my bare feet upon the ground

So that I can feel the touch of the earth,

The Sea

The Stone

Many would say all I do is roam

But there is a roaming with a purpose

To know what is sheer delight

It’s been a while since I’ve been out at night

Not to take in more of the same

But to look to the skies

To hear my name

Whispered through the eons of time

I can’t hear that unless I listen

I can’t see it unless I look

The sounds of the Merced river, brook

Still bring serenity to my aging ears

I put on peace and take off fears

So I can continue on the journey

I don’t want my life to be lived on a gurney

Being pushed and pulled 

Torn and worn

I want to live it on my bare feet

I might not get there very fast

I might not get there at all

But I will have seen the shades of fall

Turn my heart into an amber orange

Living in the colors is what really matters to me

And to live in the colors 

I have to see with my ears

Hear with my eyes

Be always expecting the gift of surprise

Be always expecting the gift of delight

Be always expecting the night and the light