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Poem – Merging Scenes
Evening clouds cross the open fields, consuming empty space and trees. We watch their fluid movements and changing colors as the sun sets. Each passing moment like snowflakes and we struggle to take all of this in.
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Poem – Secrets
Behind the red glass what being or consciousness watches our every move? The voice behind the glass asks one clear question: why won’t you let me out? Beneath the new moon questions become more frequent, secrets begin to spill. ** From the series “The Integration”
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Poem – Are They Watching?
From that white pinpoint in the evening sky – I wonder what they are thinking, and I wonder are they watching? Our future plans take humanity further from earth searching for aliens and distant planets, a search for another home, perhaps, or are we looking for ourselves? In the endless pursuit beyond here, are they…
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Poem – Light from Another Home, What Controls Each Dream
Winter evening sky burns at the horizon as day falls into night. Eyes follow the black outlines of branches reaching toward heaven through the layered hues and scattered clouds until they stop at the single white point. I have seen you each night from the cement patio as the city quiets and the distant trains…
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Poem – The Search
The sound of metal scraping across rock strewn fields is not the imagination filling time with stories and distracting thoughts away from what appears to be inevitable. No, that really is the machines emerging from the dense forest. That is the machines rewiring fluid thoughts, adapting to the immediate environment while focusing on the assigned…
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Poem – Searching for Myself
Stopping at the green gate and the snow covered driveway, the pine trees embrace the winter sky and the morning light, shadows reach across the space between tree trunks. Too much Time has passed since the last visit and the space feels foreign. While I remember the name of each tree, I hope the ravens…
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Poem – Arrival
Turning back with empty hands they find the path along the river. Rain begins as they near the forest and where they last arrived. Stopping at the treeline they wait through changing seasons. – to be continued –
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Poem – This Unknown Path They Created
(1) The march from across the fields and sea signals it is time. Are they peering across the empty space and watching events unfold? Are they among us now and with every move and change are the unseen influence? And whose path do they desire us to follow? (2) I walk across the field and…