The Next Chapter

Passing through the pages of life,
some chapters are thin and we quickly move,
some consume years and decades.

After decades in one chapter,
it is natural to wonder, is it really over?
Is it time to move on?

Moments of doubt creep in,
pulling with strength – an attempt
to drag you back into the previous chapter.

In these struggles mired in cold wind and rain
outer layers and no longer needed fragments are washed away,
leaving the raw self free of burden with clear vision.

Only then do the fields open.
Only then can we move forward.
Only then can we truly start the next chapter.

Pockets and Nests

The northern cold and snow arrived late this year.

Huddled against the wind we walk icy paths to the hilltop.

A clear view of the cloud-skewed sky.

Pockets of white, grey, and rare blue.

Various footprints scattered from trees to grasses.

We stop briefly to admire the apparent stillness when only the wind is heard, when only the wind is moving, and everything else nestles into warm pockets of earth, or nests high in the trees.

When our feet began feel the cold, we continue down the other side of the hill, back onto the icy path, and head home to our own nests.

Poem – Awakened

Scattered wisps of clouds
give way to the first sunrise.

Peaking over the horizon,
shoreline rocks absorb each ray.

Newly formed ice from high tide
cracks and refreezes with each wave.

Each inhale brings cold into waiting lungs.
Each exhale pushes out impurities from the previous year.

Like the steam rising from the sea,
I become more awakened with each breath.

Each spirit rising from the turbulent waters
follows the wind with no effort,

letting go and skimming the surface,
the awakened essence dances before

being wallowed by the sun.

First Sunrise of 2019

Poem – Mountain Dust

Mountains cast their shadows across my face
as the distant river fills the canyon
heading toward the sea.

The path these feet follow,
paved years before by faces
I do not know, yet I feel
their presence and hear voices
scattered to the ancient wind.

If I peeled away the layers
of each universe
would I ever find you buried
within the stardust?

adventure cold conifers evening

Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on


Poem – Night Becomes the Day

Standing on the front porch
I watch the sun rise over the

distant mountains and first light
run across the empty fields.

Morning wind pushes scattered stalks and coffee steam
while bird songs emerge from the tree line.

High bulbous clouds assume many colors
as the sun reaches higher.

Leroy lays at my side sleeping
as we watch night become the day.

Poem – Beast

Do each of us have a monster inside
a beast we strive to hide from the
world, those close we love, and from our self?

At the end of each day
what are we truly running from?

What shadows lurk in the forest
and what shadows do we carry?

Across the fields with scattered snow
mountains rise from the earth

in spires of solid granite,
nearly featureless – how will

this barrier be overcome?

Standing at the base of the mountains
what hope I brought here

disperses on the cold wind
scouring the surface of the empty fields,
those fields I left behind years ago
when the beast chased me away.

Poem – Awaken

I woke in the fields.
The fields I have never seen.
The fields black beneath the white sun.

Limbs emerge from snow.
Snow scatters into the wind.
Wind twists the clouds around me.

From the horizon a train nears.
The horizon shakes and fractures.
The fractured fragments cover my mind.

I was not yet ready to awaken.

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