Drifting Along

Sunny summer days

Drift along

Taking my lazy ways

Across river deep and wide

Burst-of-color leaves

Silently fall

Calling my soul to grieve

For things unfinished

Speckled blue skies

Fill with migrating birds

Loudly, their cries

Call, inviting me along

\I yearn to travel

To see family far away

Concerns, worries unravel

Twisting around my fingers

Earth-bound am I

When winter approaches

Eager eyes look to the sky

Seeking freedom

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.

Missing Him


I wonder where my dad is now

What country or what town?

Do the people even know he’s there?

And care about his men?

I wonder what he’s thinking of?

While I stare at the clouds?

Does he see the same sky that I see?

And smile at the bright sun?

I wonder if he questions

What the war is all about?

Does it make a difference what he does?

And how will it all come out?

I wonder when he does come home

Whom he will smile at first?

Do you think he’ll even recognize me?

And know that I’m his son?

I wonder if he wonders

What I’m thinking of today?

Does he pray for me on bended knee?

And whisper I love you?

Sunny, Summer Days

Sunny summer days

Drift along

Taking my lazy ways

Across river deep and wide

Burst-of-color leaves

Silently fall

Calling my soul to grieve

For things unfinished

Speckled blue skies

Fill with migrating birds

Loudly, their cries

Call, inviting me along

I yearn to travel

To see family far away

Concerns, worries unravel

Twisting around my fingers

Earth-bound am I

As winter approaches

Eager eyes look to the sky

Seeking freedom

To Children

children at play

laugh all the day

rejoice in life

without much strife

wide-eyes surprise

springs from their eyes

dancing, singing

joking, laughing

bubbling with joy

each girl and boy

create the earth

from their own birth

to something new

mystical brew

nary a thought

of something bought

giggling, shouting

each believing

laugh all the day

children at play

A Glance Outside

From my window

I see children at play

Two tiny boys

Brothers

Bouncing a seemingly large basketball

With skills beyond their sizes

Three girls, maybe eight or nine,

Ride matching pink bikes

Around and around

Weaving in and out of driveways

Between parked cars

Smiling and giggling loudly

A young teen washes his old car

Rubs hard at the rust spots

On the bumper

As if, by that simple act,

He could remove the damages

Of time

One of my neighbors turns on

His electric lawnmower

And all sound is obliterated

obnoxious reverberations

erase the pleasantries

of the summer day

calling me back to

my workday world

I miss the exuberance of children,

The intensity of the teenager,

And the innocent belief in a world

Becalmed in a storm of noise.