Silence is not without noise. It is not without interruption. It is state of mind that is found in Isolation.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Jumping for joy

She swam up into the sky
and floated there
She waved back to me, said "Hi"
and I stared
She swam back to me (and Earth)
and I held her down
out of the blue
and she called me, "Such a clown"
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Wednesday, April 20, 2011
The place where the wind goes
Oh mountain angel I have seen you
In the wet, heavy fog
In the tears of dew
In the ghostly canyons behind polished river logs
Oh mountain angel I have heard you
Under the snow bent branches
Under the giggling golden grass
Under the lichen-covered boulder-strewn benches
Oh mountain angel I have smelled you
With fir needles in your hair
With frost over your heather buds
With blossoms and bees swarming the air
But it is only as I tumble down from your heavens
That, at last, we meet
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11:00 PM
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To Endure
Hearts are like the flowers
Full of purple
Full of pink
Full of red
Full of the yellow
Like the sunlight they drink in
Hearts are like the moon light
Shimmering on the waves
Beating into sand and retreating
In rivulets that drain back to the source
Hearts are like the ice torn ridges high on mountains
They endure
They survive
And when the sun comes out, they shine
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9:51 PM
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Labels: heart
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Salvaged from the gray

She tells me, “You are nothing”
And in this place, I am not,
But I am.
Where transparent I have existed
Where bodiless I have form
You tell me, “You will wander,
but will not find.”
I have wandered and have not found.
But in seeking I have seen
I have heard
And come to know the Earth
And all her kindred souls
She is wise
and I have been made wiser
Through forests I may run to bend the pines
Through deserts I may carve the sands
Through oceans I may ripple the seas
Through canyons I may ricochet off rock and roost
Through leaves and grass I may rise and fall
And through day and night I will never give pause
Perhaps I have become more than ‘nothing’
Even if my appearance is deceiving
Even if I am as clear as glass
We are all at one time lost
but we are certainly not nothing
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4:30 PM
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Labels: becoming, Change, finding, gray, losing, Mother Nature, Nature Poetry, wind
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Gentle Giants
I see blood
On the hands
Of these mountains I love
No tears
No fears
Just blood
On the hands
Of these mountains I love
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