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"Unseen Sky"
Sunset deep and shining so bright,
can no one else behold this sight?
Yet cars
just honk and pass me by~
Why does this fool ponder the sky?
But it holds me fast~
these Heaven-sent hues.
What
care I if others see it too?
For some are born to see the light~
while some with eyes have lost their sight.
But,
oh! What a wonderful world it would be
if for one magic moment those unsighted could see... To feel such a promise
Each
sunset writes in the skies.
And to see such a thing
with their heart, not their eye
To stop for a moment
and
let life go by
and to learn for themselves
why fools ponder the sky.
"For The Children"
of ALL ages
copy right 6/1/94
For a thousand
generations
children saw the birds who'd fly.
They'd run and tell their parents,
"Someday I too will ride the
sky!"
But their parents being wiser would laugh and simply say,
"There are some things impossible,"
or "That will
be the day!"
But don't believe it when you hear that,
and here's the reason why.
The Wright Brothers heard the
very same,
yet gave man wings to fly!
They'll tell you this, and they'll tell you that,
they'll tell you what
they know.
But after years of dreams gone cold,
they can get buried deep in snow.
There's magic in each breath
we take,
each step upon the ground.
But as we grow from childhood,
it can be harder to be found.
You see there
are some people
who've been mistreated for so long,
they've forgotten all life's magic.
To believe such things
seems wrong.
But when you show all that you are,
you radiate your strength.
But remember those who don't believe,
for they'll go to any length.
To make themselves feel bigger,
by trying to make you feel so small.
But their
words are raindrops to the ocean,
and mean nothing after all.
Some will tell you you must be like them,
or else
you're just not "cool".
But to don another's way of life for status,
is wisdom for a fool.
One person can change
the world,
and no hardship is need attend.
For one kind word to a starving ear,
builds hope that has no end.
Look
for happiness from within,
for it can not be found without.
No car, no boat or plaything can bring it forth,
and
of that there is no doubt.
Judge not a man by how he looks,
but from that which grows inside.
As your body's just
a vehicle,
to enjoy life's joyous ride.
If I should die before my time,
by this poem I want you to feel new.
These
are my thoughts and who I was,
and one day these words will ring true.
Your Dad was just a dreamer,
He could not
give you many "things".
But I will lay in peace my children,
as I always tried to give you wings.
"Conquistador"
copyright 8/31/96
I wonder who it was who came this
way
their footprints deep in the sand
For we are the first to plant our flag here
From across the ocean we came
to claim this land
Then deep from the woods came an owl's call
from behind came two caws from a crow
The conquistadores
stood silent as the forest grew quiet
and the forest shadows seemed to grow
Then, from out of the darkness and
into the sun
stood proud and naked - great warriors one by one
For they had enslaved and murdered when their
longboats came ashore
With their swords of polished iron and helmets of brass
they gleamed in the sunlight like Gods
from their ancient past
But they were no Gods for when they were done
they had murdered a village for tears of the
sun
Now the warriors stood ready to die on this day
to cast these invaders forever away
Their war-hoops broke
the silence as the battle began
and arrows and lead fell amongst them like rain
The sound of thundersticks, the air
never heard ,
flew past into the legend of the unspoken word
For all the invaders laid face down in the sand
so
their souls could not come back to ravish the land
All of their rainments were hung in the trees...
their helmets, swords and muskets for all invaders to see
and their tall
ships did sail away to be seen nevermore
til' two hundred years later on another distant shore .
"Talkative Trees"
{Vision Quest}
copy right 6/22/92
There
was a boy named Scot who felt the sun,
who wondered why his life had begun.
He romped and played in the woods each
day,
and to the very trees he'd pray.
"Please tell me which is what and how,
for I've wondered all my life til'
now."
And the answer came in the whispered hues,
down from the leaves, up from the dew.
"You humans are such silly
things,
you saw the birds and wanted wings!"
You love to change and rearrange, and find that something new.
When
all about is just without,
yet still a part of you.
We're not so different, humans and trees,
you just earn your
living like the bees.
You buzz about to find your things,
until that something's found.
While for us, we keep
our families close,
and stand in solid ground.
That's how you used to be you know.
But you've forgotten to be
still and grow.
Spread your arms into the air and feel the earth, the wind, the sun.
It's from all of this and more
your life on earth has come.
"Ask him why they hide from rain,
a shrub chimned in with a little shame.
And why
they shun each other's touch.
Is it because they don't need love as much?"
"Quiet now," the old oak said.
"for
it is I each winter who makes your bed!"
"That's alright, but I don't know," said Scot.
"But I'd sooner know myself
as not!"
The old oak said, "Then I will answer for man's sake,
his soul's asleep and must awake!"
The old oak
paused to drop some seeds.
"You see man's not the only one with needs!"
A squirrel with reverence bowed and said,
"It is you, old oak, who keeps us fed."
"But tell me," Scot said. "old oak was wise and giving,
how long will
it last, this wonder of living?"
"You seen here below me, my sapling son?
His life, just as yours, has just begun.
And when the time comes for me to die,
my branches with thanks will lift to the sky.
And I will crumble and fall
bereaft to call the life's toil.
Then all that I was will nurish and soil.
I will no longer block out the light,
which
slowed his growth and shortened his sight.
In this way, I and my son will always be part,
for to life there's no ending.
Just a new start!"
The sunlight laughed as it danced down through the trees,
and
all life in the forest murmered, "This one believes."
The wind blew up and the trees danced and swayed.
The sun said
goodbye and the sky quickly grayed.
"Now take what you've learned and remember it true,
for the truth is as pure as
the sweet morning dew."
Then the trees turned their leaves to drink in the rain,
and for one little boy, life was
never the same.
"Blood On The Page"
copyright 8/16/96
There's blood on the
page
that sits before me white and naked
No time in this world for a sage
Words burning inside yearning for release
tearing my soul with unwritten rage
The cup will spill
and the unworded letters
fall into nowhere
Waiting
for the cup to fill again
Time laughing silently somewhere
just out of reach til' then
Knowing it's existence
depends on my belief in it
My soul waits for time to look away
deep in the night
Before night gives birth
to day
Then the words will spill out from my soul
and release me from their pregnat hold
Letters in my bloodstream
dying to be words
Imploring me to cut my fingers over some white naked page
To be read then heard
"Plea"
copy right 6/26/94
Be kind when thinking of me
This
wise and bewildered soul
Who sometimes lives in apathy
Or in a hookas bowl
A child whose body grew up
Still
a prisoner in this place
Who never stopped believing
Behind his ravaged face
I fought against our demons
And
always won at last
Hopeful for our future
And grateful for our past
There are those who'll say my talents
All
but negleted went to waste
I should have gathered many things
But such pursuits were empty
The fruits of bitter
taste
After all is said and done
Things are only things
It's Love that lasts forever
And Love that gives us
wings
"Sad Tree"
copy right 12/15/96
I saw yesterday one of the
saddest sights I'll ever see.
A single oak where a forest used to be.
The steel blade of man has sliced away all of
its neighbors
to "landscape" some man's yard, you see.
But what holds this wonder up when all its weight is up so
high?
Is it its roots,? the earth,? the promise of rain from darkened sky?
Have you ever heard an old tree cry?
I
have, and it made me hurt and ask her why.
Why do you weap, great wise old tree?
"Look around I stand now, alone,"
she whispered back to me.
"When just before stood my neighbors, friends, and family!
No one's left, their roots are
gone.
Now my own roots have nothing to hold on.
The wind and rain that nourished me,
have now become my enemy!
Those who shielded me from the wind,
will never grow back and guard again.
The rich dark tangle of soil and
roots,
are no longer here to nourish my shoots.
Now when it rains the earth turns into mud,
and exposes my roots
in a blood stained flood.
You humans just do not understand,
and have not in wisdom fully grown, to know there is
nothing of this earth,
that will last long, unnourished, and alone.
To know all of life is intertwined,
and to
this truth, it's man's ego makes him blind.
One day you will awaken,
to all you have forsaken.
You humans
are like forests, too.
You come from seed, you grow.
You put down roots and grow new shoots.
You've just forgotten
what you know."
With that her whispers turned to sighs,
I bowed my head and turned to cry.
No longer could I watch
her die.
"The Life Of Old Bullet"
copy right 8/20/96
The life of "Old Bullet" was a long one you see,
for it started in the womb of the arms factory.
All the baby bullets who would never walk,
passed their time each day, with baby bullet talk.
"One day I'll grow up and I'll find my mark,
I'll kill the enemy as I tear through his heart!"
And all the other bullets could not help but agree.
They were destined for greatness, they'd make history!
Now it wasn't too long til' at last they were sold.
To the army, to gun shops, even pawn shops, I'm told!
Then they were loaded in all types of guns.
Some were fired in anger, and some just for fun.
But "Old Bullet" was bought by a hunter of deer.
This was not what he wanted, and is heart raced with fear.
"Maybe he'll miss" he dared to hope.
"This guy must be crazy, or some kind of dope!
Why would anyone want to do such a thing?
To kill just for pleasure was beyond reckoning.
At last he was aimed and finally shot,
and Old Bullet missed on purpose, and bounced off a rock.
He came flying back and hit old hunter instead.
The deer got away while old hunter lay dead.
Old Bullet lay spent out there on the ground,
and I hear that old hunter never was found.
"I hope in the next life, if I come back again,
that I'll be a deer, or something gentle like rain."
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