Two souls

           

We fit together, you and I

Most times we see things, eye to eye.

For you, it’s sleeping on the right

Left is my choice always at night.

I listen carefully when you speak.

Good understanding, when at your peak

Moves us, as team, smoothly along

Seeking middle, where we belong.

When I smile, you always do, too.

And if I cry, you soon will coo.

For when one is sad, we can’t fly

No matter how hard we might try.

We love each other, that is true

For you love me, and I love you

.

Without you, I just couldn’t live.

So to you, my whole heart I give.

Trouble in the Air

 

silver birds trailing smoke across the sky

portending omens, making grown men cry

shadowy shapes eerily dancing in the flames

radiating unshaped evil in people’s games

flickering yellow lights and ghostly squeaks

shatter tender eardrums, raise swollen creeks

breaking the silence on dark winter nights

filling souls with torment, shivering frights

darkened halls, a mystical luminous room

place of magic and of gathering doom

witches brew, spirits bubble, liquids boil

creating magical potions with nary a toil

spreading poisoned fingers to make men die

silver birds trailing smoke across the sky 

Tough Words

When your dream becomes a reality

you will believe, with some certainty

all your hard work was worth the effort

now earning you well-deserved comfort.

The sky is the limit, some will say

and encourage you to not delay

the constant climb for the cherished prize.

Only then will there be no surprise.

The path is rutted and deadly steep,

filled with boulders and crevices deep.

Yet each small step leads toward success.

You have to focus, with faithfulness.

Dreams are supposed to inspire us, true.

Failure and struggles will challenge you,

orchestrating real disharmony.

Though the reason is still unclear to me.

           I Await

Insomnia plagues my nights.

She tickles me between the ribs,

plays with my fingers and toes,

counts them one by one

as she props open my sagging

eyelids with her prickly fingers.

She sends shock waves down

my trembling spine. She cramps

muscles well-past exhaustion,

and pinches stretched-thin nerves.

After raking her nails down my

tightened calves, she sits back

and cackles, reveling in my misery.

How I long to slap her face,

To send her flying into my

neighbor’s bed so she can inflict

herself on another unsuspecting soul.

But I don’t.

I restrain myself, praying that she’ll slip

away as quietly as she arrived,

leaving me in peaceful slumber.

Insomnia, you are not my chosen

best friend or my bosom-buddy. 

Leave me alone that I may travel

the distant shores of my dream-world,

experience the refreshing dip into the

pools of numbness, and drift deep

into the night, soaking up energy.

Sleep, come to me as softly as

a kitten tiptoeing into my lap.

Lick my parched lips with your

roughened tongue.  Caress my

cheeks with your silky fur.

Drip sleep-inducing nectar into

my eagerly waiting eyes, then

rock me to sleep with the rhythmic

beating of your heart.

I await.

    Buffalo Dreams

  

Visions of a long ago past

keep clouding my brain,

carrying me back in time

when herds of shaggy buffalo

roamed the verdant plains,

grazing peacefully on the lush

grasses and thinking of little

except taking the next bite.

Nomadic tribes followed the

mighty herds, giving praise

to their gods for the wonders

of sustenance freely given.

Every sinew, every shard of bone,

every inch of hide valuable gems

for improving the quality of life.

Brave warriors, dressed in hides

and lathered in specially-made

potions encircle the unmindful

beasts, seeking those best suited

for the entire tribe’s needs.

Never taking more than would be

consumed, never wasting gifts

for the sake of one small part,

and always thanking the beast’s soul,

for dying so that others may live.

Traditions broken by the arrival

of ungrateful hunters who willingly

destroyed the herds to line their small

pockets with precious gold coins,

in their wake leaving only the

footprints of times long past. 

A Wistful Repose on a Winter’s Eve

Oh, to be a kitten

To pounce

And leap

With joyful abandon

Instead of the earthbound soul that I am.

Oh, to be a dolphin

To spin

And soar

And splash

With creative pleasure

Instead of the earthbound soul that I am.

Oh, to be an eagle

To dive

And float

And hunt

With crafty precision

Instead of the earthbound soul that I am.

Pouncing, leaping, playing.

Spinning, soaring, splashing.

Diving, floating, hunting.

Loving, laughing, living

The life I’ve been given

As the earthbound soul that I am.

Winter Reflection


       

Summer’s games left unplayed, toys strewn,

swings empty, abandoned to winter’s joys.

Air crisp, clean, searing tender lungs

unused to Earth’s frosty chills.

Snow-encrusted gardens long buried

remnants of life lying dormant

until the god of spring caresses the earth,

renewing life once more

Footprints plowing stumbling paths

through unbroken fields of snow,

marking yesterday’s place,

a bookmark in time held captive.

Memories of joyous times romping,

fully clad in protective gear allowing

for frost-bit noses and rosy cheeks,

stiffly frozen fingers tingling with life.

Cloudy breath that turns to ice

covering faces in a death-like pall

gracing the earth with a white shroud

warning the careless of waiting woes.

Until spring finally comes,

the harbinger of rebirth,

rekindling fires of life-enriching

juices flowing.

Winter Beckons

Winter winds whip

Whirling leaves

High heavens’ hands

Holding gently

Caressing cozily

Frost freezes fingers

Frolicking about.

Licking lightly lips

Longing love

Exuding energy

Swirling snowflakes smash

Softly flowers

Dragging down definitely

Dead plants

Generating growth

Warm winter woolens

Wrap heads

Protecting parts perilously

Protruding free

Refreshing reminder

Early evening enchantments

Ease worries

Relaxing rhymes ring

Righteously throughout

Mixing merrily

Blessed Firelight

The fire crackles,

tongues of flame reaching

high into the night sky,

reaching to capture the

essence of the One who

feeds all flames.

Sparks whirl, grasping,

leaping for joy, celebrating

a temporary life lived in

fullness. Rejoicing, dancing,

sprinkling the darkness

with pinpoints of light.

Flickering flames bathe

the woods nearby, casting

eerie glows on low-reaching

fir trees; on fallen logs whose

souls have flown and rest

now in peace.

Horned owls hoot in syncopated

harmonies joined by a distant

pack of coyotes whose yips rise

and fall with unequaled grace.

A fir branch snaps, splitting the

song’s joyful tunes.

The night has a bite, a sharpness

that penetrates the inner core,

threatens to steal warmth,

warded off by a rising taper of

sparks, resurrecting feeble souls

who yearn for life.

Serenity beckons, calling the flames

to calm, to settle, to dwindle

until only a feeble light survives,

burning into perpetuity,

fueled by the eternal love

of One who feeds all flames.

Morning Thoughts

I rose before the sun

Crested the nearby hills,

When the nighttime darkness

Blanketed my world

The air, clean-smelling

Like freshly washed clothes,

Energized my newly awakened body

Augmented by a gym workout

The gift of time well spent

Brought immense pride

I visualized myself shrinking

As sweat poured down

Face, back, arms as my legs

Pumped the Stairmaster

Moving in its never-ending cycle

It reminded me of my day-to-day

Existence

Feed, water, take care of critters

Feed my own body and soul

Seven days a week, without fail

Five days a week I stood

Before reluctant high school students

Who were so bored they could barely keep

Eyes open and heads up

I force-fed them an education

That seemed so meaningless

In their social-driven lives.

Yet they learned

Despite a lack of engagement

As the work day ended,

I left with a smile

Knowing that the effort

Was worth it.

The cycle began again.

Getting up early

Rising before the sun

Crested the nearby hills