My thoughts are leaking
from the broken air
the soft damage was done
without sound or touch
something much larger
rolled like a mountain
through my blink of time
the damage was done
while my eyes stared
straight ahead
and did not see
The waterfall
A small waterfall flows
over the edge of my mind
it has been flowing
from the beginning of everything
when it comes to an obstacle
it goes around and over
with no stop or pause
this morning I considered
turning in a different direction
a stray thought
while the water flowed on and on
over the edge of my mind
Ask me a question
I’m looking for a good question
so I can answer it
I have many answers
ready to go
as long as they don’t begin
with why
I do have some other questions
that have no answer
none at all
they all begin with why
The newsreel
The roll and the flicker of days
comes in and out of focus
like an old newsreel
the colours are washed out
yellow and brown
the voices with mock seriousness
describe events
like they had any importance at all
it could be the story
of someone’s life
like mine
Like a lot of my poems, this arrived last night. I look at it and wonder where that came from?
The will of stars
Stumbling about this morning
with the wreckage
of an old body
I contemplate submission
to the will of stars
to the maker of stars
to the mission and the mood
of oceans
to the maker of oceans
The face
I was given this face to wear
for the journey of this life
most days I call it my own
and make it the best that I can
other days I look in the mirror
and wonder who that is
at the end of the journey
when I meet the giver
I hope I can explain how I lost it
somewhere along the way
I don’t think anyone else
can wear it
The other side of now
There is a figure waving
from the other side of now
there is a sweet pain gripping me
more than I allow
there are silent footsteps leaving
from the question mark of right
while the patient wings of love
are flying into light
Our crows
We have two resident crows
at our house
when I speak to them
they understand me
do you
World traveler
When I tell you
I am a frequent traveler
between worlds
I am not speaking of astronomy
what is a world
what is my means of travel
when I return from the inner stars
I am not speaking of astronomy
if when I greet you
I say you live in outer space
this is not about astronomy
perhaps we will meetÂ
if I make a landing in your world
are you a student of astronomy
Words in the air
I don’t remember
the exact words or the room
or the date and time
but the words continue
to hang in the air
perhaps they will fall
by their own weight
and bring down the wall
they created
