Posted in Where I live.

Silent Sunday…

seasons of mists

There’s a quiet mist over everything,
clinging to trees
it softly brings…
calm to the meadows 
with silken dew,
waiting patiently
for light to peek through…

Gently joining the earth
to the skies,
easing the glow
of a bright sunrise…
and all of nature
hugs in clouds,
while not a sound is being said aloud… In whispered vapors
it silently flows,
blurring the edges
with opaque tones…


Posted in Thinking out loud

A bright star…

“We come spinning out of nothingness, scattering stars like dust.”
― Rumi

stars 4

Did you remember who you were before the wars?
when sweet waters
washed up on every shore…
when you deciphered the patterns in the skies,
before the estrangement,
before the lies…

When love was as plain as day
before harsh words caused dismay…

unacquainted with darkness or form,
your essence shone like a meteor swarm…

a bright star
entering physical plains,
crashing to earth
you bravely
incarnated from cosmic realms,
sent to
expand love
where humans dwell…

Have you forgotten your reason for being?
when love was all you ever believed…

Before the great suffering,
before strife…
when every soul was

image courtesy…PixaBay

Posted in Thinking out loud

Seeing dimly…

“Remember when you were young?
You shone like the Sun…”
― Pink Floyd

the cadence of your voice

This photographic memory is etched in cloudy glass,
echoing through time,
sprinkled with flowers
the color of the skies
and soft breezes
sweeping me into abstractions…

we were perched on the asphalt in nonchalant conversation,
hanging on words…
not knowing then
that these fragments
should have been collected
and their vibrations documented…

though my heart
clearly remembers
the cadence of your voice that day,
the words
have evanesced into the ether…

And Time Lords came
and gathered them up
to record in great vaults
for perpetuity…

I still feel the echo
of them
resonate in
the silence of a cosmic imagination…

but now the conversations are
whispers in my head
speaking tenderly,

and invariably I hope
they are you….



Posted in dreaming our loud


I was born very far from where I’m supposed to be,
and so I’m on my way home.”
― Bob Dylan,


tracks that lead nowhere
the sands of time…

I fall into perpetual motion
where destiny is sublime…

in visceral latitudes
only love
I’m just stopping over to sojourn with the saints…