Monthly Archives: January 2014

I walked along a moonlit garden

This week’s poem is one that was written almost a decade ago.  It’s interesting to re-read the things I wrote when I was younger.  Some of them read like a diary written in my own cipher.  Others work like a map, pointing me back to some moment of inspiration, the birth of an idea that I thought highly enough about to take note of.

I walked along a moonlit garden
Paled by autumn’s chill
And through the faded, wilting remains
Some color lingered still
Dim light beamed down upon a crown
Of petals yet fiery red
A king stood in his glory
That a frost could not claim dead
I waited on until the dawn
With hope that warmth was near
And when I glimpsed the rising sun
It turned aside my fear
Upon the ground new life was found
That grew before my eyes
It told me many promises
From out beyond the skies


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At A Movement’s Notice

I am amused by the disparity of our perception.  One evening is gone in a single conversation, yet some minutes can persuade a more leisurely passage of time.  We are seldom aware of the steady march,  the cadence too easily lost to distraction, though it never changes, never waits, never pauses.

I can see the hourglass,
Can count the grains of sand.
Pondering the precipice,
Wherever I will land.

I refuse the quiet air
And fight inertia’s pull.
Urge my feet when still beneath
Intention rendered dull.

Phantom crowds of silent doubts,
A challenge, or a plea?
To act upon the moment
Requires not certainty.

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Not Everything Rhymes

Travel is a great catalyst for writing.  I would be surprised to hear anyone say otherwise.  The disruption of routine, the shift in perspective, the novelty of the sights and sounds, all fuel creativity.  Every place I have ever visited has its own stories, local legends, unique traditions, like wellsprings for the imagination.

Big Sur

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In a Child’s Voice

If I wanted to hear myself
I would not have asked
For the words that you said

But honesty has a filter not
And so my tongue asks
That my ears forgive

The reflected affront
Of mirrored syllables
Better heard not at all

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