thoughts – Page 6 – three good words

January 31, 2016April 12, 2017

like oxygen

there is no crime in compassion
no weakness in genuine
gentleness
though one must use one’s head
(pearls before swine and all that).

many stop short of acts of kindness
for fear of appearing
ridiculous.

that is a pity.

so many are lost in loneliness
because loving deeds are left undone
kind words left unsaid
and letters written
then tossed aside
left for dead.

this is a pity.

we must love to live
a life worth living
love is like oxygen.

so be ridiculous –
every now and then
be your absolute
self
the one we’re taught to
hide and deny

that part that is
our inner child:
surprisingly insightful
innocently tender and kind.

December 15, 2015

once more

…again
at a wood-panelled structure
once more unto the breach
while on an improvised stage
singers, young
sing songs delivered
from the twice born…

And it is important to remember
that the “I” in me
is simply one of many;
that all are trying
to touch the void
that vastness
that remains enigmatic
delirious
ancient, divine.

…and again
we are all in it
together
in this beating, breathing
entity
(passed on, one body at a time)
this wondrous thing called
Life.

November 26, 2015

moments, many

to be thankful
is to be mindful
of those moments, many
where one is centered, whole

a heartbeat, two
a minute, an hour, a day
where there’s more
than the day-to-day
9-to-5
Mo.-Fri. plus overtime

where, like music
the world opens wide
to heartbeats of peace

where you can exhale and just
be.

a moment of
genuine
thanks giving.

October 3, 2015

once more

the sun once in bloom
now alive, hidden
in a land of green and black and gold

O, what grace is given
to know
all that we have known
and seen amongst us all
paved along the waves
once crossed, bound in stone

built in those days
when we still knew forever
a time of tears and laughter
flesh and bone
not lost
but no longer known

and so it goes
or so they say
the bells chime
the wind blows
and time is born once more.

September 26, 2015

reflection

fall and thoughts sail down
like leaves off a tree of self
doubt and certainty

asking, wondering
so many etcetera, too many to count
silently loud
in the quietness of hidden hearts;

questions that linger
ever since ‘I’ became ‘Me’
and ‘You’ was separate
apart, a part of everyone
else
someone, somebody
a body beyond the self
‘I’, ‘Me’
sad hours seem long

that room where they come and go
why Michelangelo?

consciousness, they say
is when a mirror loses its wonder
and becomes reflection.

this is what we have
a sense of confinement that is open
static yet moving
a constant attempt to decipher
the senses trick or treating
us to another’s perception;

always desirous to
touch beyond skin
and hear the voice
that reaches our inner ear

as deep as heartbeats go
beyond skin and bone
to that marrow that others call soul.