Sometimes I wonder

Sometimes I wonder

why I’m here in this world

so I start moving around

doing things familiar things

and hope it will come to me

The trembling lily

The loose connection
between beginning
and frayed end
twisted and fell to the slippery floor
of stubborn blindness
no one could hold
the burnt flowers of fear
and they too landed
on the slowly disappearing
ground of tired belief
there must be something new
he thought
as the entire circus tent
exploded in sudden fire
and blew away
leaving a trembling
fragrant lily of delight


Questions dance back and forth
across the edge of possibility
a touch of this a taste of that
new worlds of sound and light
answers carry a load of should
with doors closing and windows dark


Lost in the opposite of found
I was placed in the contradiction
of belong
held in the absence of connection
moved by the substance of incomplete
onwards backwards forward spun
and left right here

Observations in the ocean

I often see eight pelicans
perched on the side of a boat
anchored some distance from shore
they can live twenty-five years
is it always the same ones
is that their boat then
what do they talk about
how about those fish today
if one flies off and come back
does he say hey bud you’re in my spot
do they ever get tired of it all
can you hear one say
I could go for a dive
but what’s the point

Say goodbye

When do you begin to say goodbye
is it already built into hello
when do you begin to leave
is it the moment you arrive
when does life begin to end
is it with the very first breath

The circle around the center

The circle around the center
was at the bottom of my top
the empty space was calling
but it wasn’t in my thought

The direction of my motion
was an arrow through my heart
the damage from the hand of time
was playing out their part

Could there be a stranger way
to hurtle through this space
when the ship has no direction
and the driver has no face

I thought I found my voice at last
but still it wasn’t clear
did the source and purpose come                                                                                              from out of love or out of fear

I walk through the gallery

Walking through the gallery
of faces over time
I stop and look
and think yes I was him
I remember him
but where is he now
the carpenter the runner
the bold naive traveller
the father the son
the immune and the invisible
others I shake my head
surely I was never that
then I reach the end of the hallway
and see a face so strange
I stare full of questions
until I realise this is a hall of mirrors
who do I see wrinkled and grey
face of a battlefield
scars of pain
my eyes are looking and looking
for the next face