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Poem – Finding Home in the Chaos – Part 4
These simple moments of nature’s gentle cycle coupled with the raw energy exhibited here and beyond humble this man juggling chaos looking for simplicity looking for answers to questions I have not asked.
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Poem – Finding Home in the Chaos – Part 3
Sometimes when I see the midnight moon over the superior waters I imagine, if I reach for enough from the shoreline I can catch the beams in my palm. The iced shoreline captures and holds the moon just long enough for me to taste the ancient light and remember my roots far beyond any physical…
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Poem – Finding Home in the Chaos – Part 2
We hike for hours, having left the flat fields, the trail twists and turns toward a peak overlooking a wide valley filled with trees past their peak. The valley empties into a lake filling horizon with what is discarded, what is no longer useful here, to be dispersed out to sea into the cosmos. Darkness…
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Poem – Layered Sky
Layered autumn sky like the waves rising from the horizon minutes before landing at the shore. Sky layered like the chapters of a life lived and lived hard – pages become the days counted since the beginning of time – that experience we survived emerging from the fire carrying the fragments that are left –…
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Poem – Through Silence
Through silence I find the universe’s voice and when balanced it is a reflection of myself. Midnight sky. White dots. So many they blend into a haze across what astronomers measure in parsecs – whatever the official distance or definition I know this – I stand in awe at the heavens, the light, and energy…
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Poem – Storms
The godless faces of clouds move storms forward with voiceless commands. Building from the horizon they float in the boundless sky, scattering light and color until the sun sets and free of its binding energy they swallow what is left and overtake trees and shadows.
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Poem – Color and Sound
The last orange highlights sink into the horizon. Thin grey clouds float across light blue sky. Red-winged blackbirds continue conversations. Across the fields and wetlands lawn-mowers cut through deep green grass. The calendar tells me it is June and with eyes closed I hear summer but this evening has settled for October.
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Finding Home
Is home truly where the heart is, or where the heart feels at home? The sun rises behind grey clouds infused with faint orange, drifting in the morning sky just above the distant treeline. Across the vast expanse of water, mountains rise to meet the sky, and the sky greets the mountains with tears. A…