Time’s icy scythe
Slips up unwary
Wayfarers distracted by
Changing tides and seasons.
The sun always shines
Above the clouds:
Hold on
‘Till blue skies
Shine in your
Calmly enduring eyes.

Treetops carry moon
New Year arises
Born of Venus’
Bright morning star
Sparkle moon wears
On its crown

A pirate penned me a song
Its lure trembled my heart
I’d seen this fiddle before
The one whose bait catches
Birds that know better but
Don’t listen to their intuition

I forgot his modus operandi

A raven quietly watches
Knowing pirates are sloppy
Heart-thieves gather trophies
Every one etched with the player’s
Signature eyes-wide-shut tattoo
Modus operandi candy-cane sincerity

Sugar-sincerity eventually nauseates

Sun is the orator
Who speaks in light’s
Shine on everyone
Language

We meet in twilight’s
Wild stallion fields

~ Weightless we breathe ~

Chucking yesteryear
Into steel vaults;

Too heavy to carry
For riders like us, who

Gallop in the present moment

The tree the tempest with a crash of wood
Throws down in front of us is not to bar
Our passage to our journey’s end for good,
But just to ask us who we think we are

Insisting always on our own way so.
She likes to halt us in our runner tracks,
And make us get down in a foot of snow
Debating what to do without an ax.

And yet she knows obstruction is in vain:
We will not be put off the final goal
We have it hidden in us to attain,
Not though we have to seize earth by the pole

And, tired of aimless circling in one place,
Steer straight off after something into space.

— Robert Frost

You should sit in meditation for
                     twenty minutes every
day – unless you’re too busy;
                      then you should sit for an hour.

                             ~ Zen

When I’m tired weary and worn
I go to the forest and am reborn

if the
Goddess
had a face
it would be a
perfect
circle
resting
in the
heart of a
rose

white swan,
show me how to dance on water;
i will join you
~ my feet have sprouted wings ~
your joy a song,
now i know why mystics
call you, divine breath

The hand that clothes
Living flowers
Is unseen;
Lights without candle,
Wick, or electricity.
The One
Who owns everything,
Yet loves simplicity.

If you see my reflection ~
Its radiance muted,
Remember soft light:
Seat of soothing rest.