“Himalayas” by Grażyna Smalej
striving for the summit
the capstone who laughs
granite bleached by the sound
rumbling confident tumbling
through temples of glaciers
leaving humans disabused
of their impudent dreams
grandeur belongs to this
rarefied realm where no
purpose runs shallow where
pride is reserved to deep
eons of unsullied motives
though now and then men
may ascend their adventure
their destiny rarely will rise
much above the repichnia
marking the burrows of worms
From my book Ephemera
“Candles” by Marjorie Masel
why remember
what can’t be remembered
a day in those long ago forties
a time and a place
indescribably different
small piece of a world
that no longer exists
save in minds of the
dullest historians
nothing about it
remotely familiar
to anyone still in full vigor
a day unremarkably marked
by a sunrise and sunset
that only the now dear departed
would ever have witnessed
a day disappeared
into myriad wisps
of gray room-darkened smokerise
from too many candles
politely blown out by
the bearded old breath
of a tired forgettable life
From my book Onionskin
“Approaching Storm”
Painting by Thomas Hart Benton
From passionforpaintings.com
hurry the day
move along
keep ahead
of the storm
cheat the thunder
outrun the
electrified air
save your shadow
from murder by
darkcast of clouds
should you falter
and fall beneath
torrents of rain
all is lost
washed forever
from memory
swept from the
cycling of history
leaving at most
a sweet petrichor
aftermath scent
an ephemeral wisp
fleeting wraith
ecological figment
Himalayas
Photo from lowfares.com
striving for the summit
the capstone who laughs
granite bleached by the sound
rumbling confident tumbling
through temples of glaciers
leaving humans disabused
of their impudent dreams
grandeur belongs to this
rarefied realm where no
purpose runs shallow where
pride is reserved to deep
eons of unsullied motives
though now and then men
may ascend their adventure
their destiny rarely will rise
much above the repichnia
marking the burrows of worms
Writer Lynne Sargent
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
no dust here
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Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)
flights of fancy from New Zealand
You're never alone, if you've something to share
All you touch and all you see / is all your life will ever be
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I am where the valleys are deep, the mountains are high, and the wind moans through trees...
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