Work today.
Write today.
Read today.
Show kindness today.
Wait not for tomorrow.
For only a troublesome
world awaits.
A day of narrow bridges
and sparce lanes.
A day to stare at the sky
and the show ponies
dancing in their fields.
So, I take the stern life of today.
Lavishing it with a creative mood.
And sweet words of kindness.
Tomorrow’s light is not in sight.
But this is enough for today.

What do I earnestly seek?
The truth form a past life.
Or the meaning of this life?
The answer is nothing.
To enjoy life’s immensity.
I need no answers.
Or many things.
Choosing to come and
go in the moment.
Ensures that nothing
just fades away.

My loss is know.
Only to me.
A strange story
of dandelions
and Buddhas.
But it is true.
What a life.
What a life.
And still more
to come.
As I expand and
rejuvenate the way.

Stone pillars all around.
Silent until the end of the world.
Only the river offers hope.
Boats ripped to the wind.
But not bowed.
Sidewalks cracked by roots.
But still searching.
A poet walking.
Not cold enough
yet to go numb.
And always the
river bed rising.

Let me start each day
with a truth to keep.

That I find meaning
in the simplest of joys.

A passion to share.
A smile of learning.

To take the globe
and roll it away.

To get from here to there
and not loose myself.

A scholarly attitude
to tell if the winds blows.

And all this not for
trinkets and baubles.

But a good and honest
attempt towards the way.

As the last sun dies.
There is no smile of compassion.
References are still being
given to the show ponies.
To drown the dust of
each tedious darkness.
Salt and pollen pile
up on the streets.
The café lights fade in and out.
And the kids reclaim
the empty streets.
Having given all
they had to give.
Just before the final
onslaught of decay.
The poets give their last words.
Something about all
that we are is the
the result of what we thought.
And deepening the faith in yourself.
As if by magic, the long night
of hatred and loss ends.

In each line I write
she wears that dress.
I can almost feel
the warmth of her body.
But the sun is
always fading away.
And I can never see her clearly.
Now, I live in a world of my own.
No longer possessed by love.
Just quiet memories
of ourselves together.
Full of love charms
and lions that roared.

The rain falls around me.
A full performance
on this spring day.
But I am not swept away
by the bluster of
this inclement season.
My task is still at hand.
Within an awareness
that is still expanding.
Each breath a “letting go”
Each step a “yes”
And then, everything finds me.
How endlessly interesting
and encouraging life seems to be.

​

Sometimes,
daytime memories
bleed into the night.
And then another day.
Happy, sad I face it all.
The choice is no longer mine.
Only today, for goodness,
life and love

​
​Sleeping nights.
​Sometimes, its not so easy.
​Restless in my bed.
​It is a thing of memories.
​Jewelled days and
​knots pulled together.
​No wonder, I am glad
​when the morning comes.