And Wacky Am I

And now wacky am I, I thank you, mother, for

the days I take no pill;

the oak table that folds upon itself,
a hinge, a turn, a hidden box
containing nothing, a silence left to me alone;

the vaporous song echoing here from the
dusty floor of a small house
in a village like so many.

I thank you that I somehow sing

though rhythms and their verses
keep note and meaning but to me,

through the doubt that song to my self
in silence be song at all.

March, 2009

All the birds are gone

Robins' nest is empty, all dreamin' done today.
All the birds are gone, and the sky is gray;

Fledgling Wilbur flew the nest, then Oliver flapped away.
The yard below the nest was fenced, so mom could train & play,
no dogs to chase the fledges and make them playin' prey.
But giving worms to encourage the two who remained to stay,
accidentally drove them to claw out, dive and go on their way.
One ran toward the road, so with imitation wings & ludicrous human display,
I herded her back toward shelter in the dog & human fray.
At first panicked, robin mom & partners dove & threatened with their warning bray.
But seeing my intentions, mom's wondrous posse "joined",
and pressed the young'n' to shelter beneath a leafy spray.

All the birds are gone now, and the sky is gray.
The family she mothered, her selfless display, her partners gone,
but the love and joy she rendered, are alive and all regrets allay.

The Seed

I watch in 3D, yes, even without TV,

a flutter so ordinary, so extr'ordinary

because I have to watch, then dream, imagine,

travel new paths, beyond my sedentation, beyond my education;

Every minute, every day, I remain in wonder.

Around me lies miracle, yet all is ordinaire;

even this seed, even this tree, even the memory the seed hath wrought to reality.

Every vein, every root in memory, planted by the seed to seek

the ordinary mystery in the never- and unknown,

to wet its being, to feed the self as it grows to be, whose shared community brings forth

the corpulent beginning of a vein turned to thousands, toward neighbors and simple place,

to feed itself, its leaves, its bark, its invitation to share and seek its neighbors --

all from the beings who compose its legacy with ours all in magical verse within its seed.

Though we cannot read its, as it cannot read ours, we share the wonder of life in community, all wrought seed by seed,

reading together, growing stronger as one ...

and yet, only having grown through the gifts of each other

and millions of species together from a single seed

and the mystery that has lain before and lies beyond.

Circumstance and Syncronicity

Each moment of one's life is preparation;
both this moment and infinite moments to come,
gathered become momentous, moments' preparation,
behind the glass are lost; before, become aspiration,
perspiration realized, sweat.

Co-Incidence

Incident by incident flashes by, each bound in expectation as those imagined.
Bound in orbits, gamed each one of purposed lives, of loves, of incidence and profit,
Bound close by incident memories day by day.
Bound in daily wonder decades long.
Bound, compelled by physics present in our supple times,
binding somehow stronger than the potent gravity of our yearning,
distant, sterile orbits of co-incident desire,
memories, dreams and wondrous shared reality unrealized.

Someone Else's Path

Here I walk on someone else's path;
I follow the curves, I follow the rules, I stay in the lines.
I may try to improve the path a bit; I may try to take its most efficient way.
And yet, still I walk someone else's path.

My country, 'tis of thee

My country, 'tis of thee,
If thou hadst the quiet pride of integrity,
of strength and of courageous intensity,
Thy leaders all, all me and we
the people and our varied religiosity --
beliefs, intentions, focus and perversity --
could make peace worldwide without war;
could invite our friends and "enemies", near and far
with respect to sit with us without fear, on par,
asking all to share beliefs, intent, humanity, needs and more.

What do we want? Why must desire be met or "Kill!"?
Why cannot humanity forgo want when our abounding riches will?
Why do we hide behind our richly funded towers, walls and corporate war machine
Selling death, while we imagine we imagine peace, love, a wonderful world and nothing so obscene.