just thinking

…one day soon ‘man’ will reflect, will introspect

and judge the choices made and misgivings, will wonder

how did we go so astray?

many millennia ago, we learned that as primordial beings

we attended to our diurnal existence no different than other 

less human characterized beings. we killed to eat, we killed

for territory rights, we defecated anywhere and slept under

a rock or in a cave.

at some point in time after we realized that in order to sustain

the uniqueness of our species we had to do things differently. 

we learned to draw on cave walls, learned grunts and groans,

sign language and thus communication afforded an affinity for

each other, realizing cooperation better served our species.

 at some point in our supposed progression, we began to develop

our cognitive abilities. we then arrived at a conclusion that there

is a meaning to our existence and thus we wrote a book of do’s

and ‘don’ts because we determined that we needed a purpose for

our existence and so we created a divinity that gives a purpose and

reason, for ‘life’ and accept ‘death’.

we then noticed that by following this written scripture and

abiding by its rules, we, as ‘man’, became more civil, we began

to care for each other and thus we formed a discipline, named it

‘religion’ and, so too, inserted our notion of the divine, convinced

ourselves that this book was written with this assistance of divine

intervention thus providing us with human morals and ethics

somewhere between this epiphany and now, we went astray. for

not only do we now kill for food, but also, each other for profit

and money. we have strayed from the scripture by manipulating

its meaning to reflect our vileness, our vices. we have perverted

‘religion’ to meet our newly found destructive nature.

we are allowing to be led by a vile persona. we are mirroring

a perverted nature of being. we care little about human life, about

all life, thus, we find ourselves at the cliff’s edge of not only human

extinction but the extinction of all life forms. all that is mundane.

alone with tears

…even though i practice resting my mind, resting my heart,

even though i exercise deep breathing to calm my soul

moments still arise where i feel an emptiness, a void

within that causes me lachrymal despair

i sit still and quiet at the rooted feet of my pink blossom tree

and stare at the daisy that also stands alone and still, before me,

at the iris that sways in the breeze, the little chipmunk scurrying 

about aloof but joyful, and yet sometimes i feel alone, lonely

my heart hurts for those i know that are living with a love

one who have been prognosed with an insidious and evil

infirmity and they feel helpless to relieve the angst, the

pain, and i'm reminded, of my own mortality

i hear the whistling whispers of the breeze blowing through

the limbs that hover over me and the occasional call from

the Cardinal that is perched above me harkening its mate

and so i smile but behind the smile are still the tears

i try to recall the moments of joy in my life, the love that

has found my heart, the spirit in the verve of life, yet, still

i lament in my mind and my soul wishes to purge, so i sit

at the base of my tree and i think i hear it crying with me…

nocturnal, i am now

…lately, i chide the day where once i played and most

are awake for t’is this, now, when quietly and without

notice i slither into moments of rest and sleep for this

is when the moon and stars lie down on horizon’s bed

and so too, now do i, for i’ve become nocturnal like them

seems, of the hustle and bustle in the day, i have taken

a disinterest of the fray and wish to sleep away, and while

the quiet of night allures me, where my thoughts are

undistracted and clear, dreams become reveries and

daytime reveries have been replaced by dreams

still of the morning’s delight, i welcome the warmth of

the yellow-gold ball of light that nurtures with nutrients

the verdant fields and the blooming buds on trees that

are adorned by sounds of an aviary choir celebrating with

their songs, giving rise to the verve of day

so when time arises that dusk’s breath rolls in to

taunt the light of day, the still and quiet within me will sit

outside to welcome the noir of night so as the moon

and stars ascend onto the canvas of the sky, the spirit of

my being will intermingle, thus i with thine…

loving life

lately, as the number of my years have accrued when

now i close mine eyes to coddle that ever so desirous

gentle sleep, my dreams are filled with the faces of those

who no longer walk along beside me amidst the waking day

upon this mundane sojourn

sometimes i feel a joy with their presence surrounding

me again but then sometimes this dream filled journey

brings memories of where angst had garnished our days

with pain and i could feel tears run down my face with mine

eyes still closed as my head lay on the pillow

but then when the morning’s tug awakens me with the sound

of a choir of Cardinals and Robins, Sparrows and Blue Jays

singing my favorite tunes, while the waft of a lilac bush just

outside my open window in Spring, fills my room and

mine eyes open to a loveliest vision of my love laying

next to me and my canine children at my feet

love fills my heart, sates my soul and until my last breath

i shall cherish the nocturn dreams and daytime reveries,

shall love life for all its worth

rainbows and rains of May

May, i welcomed you as always, celebrating

your bringing the rain that blooms your attire

and with the Sun warm and tender appear

your bonnet of rainbows

although you began with gray clouds and that

not only saturated the streets and verdant

fields but darkened with shadows the state

of my heart and soul

my love and partner in life began infusion

treatments for her infirmity and so you,

May with your gray clouds, was not all

sweet showers, rainbows and flowers

our hearts are heavy with angst but this

does harken within us both to be attuned

to the value of life when calm and peaceful

moments touch our days in May

...moment to moment, breath to breath

daffodils, lilies and the waft of budding roses and the lilac as

Spring has sprung whilst the rains shower the now verdant

fields of long grass and cuddling wild flowers

the freshness of the morning and the dusk is most evident

and so my day begins with spring in my step of sharing this

day’s beginning with my love

life has recently dealt us with a metaphor of gray but with

this refreshing beginning of Spring we will gently walk amidst

the daffodils and lilies and smell the wonder of roses and lilac

Avril's bittersweet

wishing that she sees only

the calm of love in mine eyes

and not the tears behind this

smile

bittersweet, this week as we celebrated

the day ‘mamasita’ gave birth to me

but on this day, also, a few years back

she passed away

yesterday, my heart was swallowed into

an abyss of sadness when our oncologist

told my love, my wife, that we now have a

battle in our hands

but i shall harken that smile upon my face

and lay upon her kisses and a warm embrace

yet alone, in silence, my tears will flow

listening to my heart beat

when listening to my heart beat,

sometimes i think i hear an echo

from its chambers, an emptiness

yet resounding with anguish and

sorrow of days with grey clouds

hovering o’er

my spirit of positive hope, though, is

sustained with the will to thrive amidst

voices filled with vitriol and hate

and i am committed to share and remind

others that their choice of hope and

change must abide in their spirit

listen to the voice of our children and, also,

one in history who took on this challenge

marching on a bridge …’we shall overcome’

my gentle breeze

we may be in a different room

a different space in our abode

when i hear her endearing laugh,

i can see her in my mind, her soft

and gentle face, her smiling

eyes

she’s like a lily in a lily patch

or a daisy in a meadow where  

a subtle breeze doth blow and they

dance and sway like ripples in the sea

soothing whatever longings there

may be

when she lies next to me and i turn

to look at her, a warmth and calm comes

o’er me as i see the kindness of her face

that from whence mine eyes first lay upon

hers did see, that which made my spirit dance

and my heart sing

thus, we’ve walked together for many

a day and years sharing joys and travails,  

and now life’s slowing days with aches and

wrinkles our hair of gray blows in that gentle

breeze whilst our smiles with each other’s

memories, dance

saturday's reflection

Saturdays come and go too quickly nowadays

coming together as the sundays, mondays

and tuesdays fly by almost unseen when then

wednesdays barely say, hello, along with thursdays

and fridays, so discretely having been dragged

along before saturday, once again, visits

then hesitate to speak of how fast aprils and mays

arrive wishing them to stay longer their visits for

they bring their brilliance of color and the sounds

of fauna pleasingly playing through the summer’s

sunny days when then too soon and too long a stay, 

come the cold and grey, a burden upon my aging body 

then there's the years that have insidiously flown by

garnering and gathering forlorn memories that bring

tears not because of dread but because too quickly

and too fast they have become my past whilst knowing

little of my time left before i need to dress in the

attire for that eternal rest

soul visits

my soul has wandered onto the path

of where my heart has led it, forthwith,

to reside in this temporal existence

encased in this incarnate being where

the sensoria dictate

where eyes are enticed by aesthetics

while the rooted toes of trees are tickled

underneath by tributaries of the seas

and fauna sleep under nocturne lights

then awaken to scurry about in embrace

by the sun and the day’s delight

the soul in its transcendent path may care

little of this mundane sojourn but my heart

shall tarry on and cherish the gift of this life

it’s been afforded, though knowing not why

or what divine, will howl with the wolf in

appreciation and soar with the eagle until

no more

the caterpillar to mariposa

and so i came upon this small caterpillar hanging

onto a leaf seemingly drinking the dew from dusk.

this encounter comes while on my daily stroll

and so i stopped to observe its wanderings

without words spoken, knowing that soon it

would perform its metamorphic transcendence,

then surely if it partakes in such it can read my mind

i wonder if it knows that soon it will become this

butterfly with rainbow wings that flies, replacing the

cilia feet of a terrestrial?

In this transformation, will it remember its past task

of walking and climbing always in angst of its

avian prey?

i ask in wondering~~~ when my incarnate shell doth

lay to rest, like the caterpillar to the ‘mariposa’, and my

spirit transcends, will i remember the love, the pain

of the mundane?

being in perpetuity

when i dream or even when i ponder

about life and its short-lived path, it is

no longer fear that binds me but am

filled with delight that my spirit will live

in perpetuity, if by chance, the notion of

the omnipresent and omniscient is true and

the breath of my soul will reside in eternity

so this delight i feed with the morning’s sun

and the twinkle of dew sprinkled on petals

and verdant grass while breezes blow leaves

on trees and as fauna awake to make hay in the

day, the rivers and oceans run riveted waves as

mountain tops tickle the clouds that dangle

from a powder blue sky

this shall sate my spirit, my being for who knows

maybe in our transcendent new realm we may

be given the freedom to create our own new

existence and thus i shall have in the pouch of

my soul all that i’ve consumed while in this world,

having dressed and created all that is me, my

immortality.

Love is immortal

when the subject of my Love is no longer present

having departed to its next transcendental realm

will my Love go with?

and then i will love again, share my heart and soul

with another thus will it be the same or does this

Love carry a different nature, a different spirit?

where does all this Love reside, where does it come

from and where does it exist, where all who wish

can share in it and give of it?

in the oracles of writ, it has been written that Love

is omnipresent, that Love may be the vibrations,

the intrinsic makeup, the nature of all that exists

and if this be so, then i have found, have drank

from the cup that never empties and if this be

true then my spirit will exist in immortality

unselfish and selfless

my words may not meet your eyes

and if they do, they may not touch your

heart and soul or tug with curiosity, rendering

the intended wealth of kindness

if they do, i wish for my words to impress upon

your human nature the heartfelt calling to

recognizing the presence of other’s,

of their bone and flesh

that your soul to witness the common space

we all share, while traversing this mundane sojourn

and that we must all give of ourselves unselfishly,

who upon, little and scarcity befall

whether it be of the mind or possessions,

to sustain or just to stay warm, let my words

impress upon your heart and human kindness

that all life has a common goal; to live, to Love

my reveries and night time dreams

…though my body is wanting rest

a light inside my mind stays on

and so my spirit remains awake

i partake in the mundane in daylight

and wish to transition my reveries to dreams

when sleep should fill the night

but because my soul revels in its own realm

It knows not wake or sleep thus my days

and nights are indistinguishable

If only pain and anguish were the same

as comfort and peace or sadness with joy

or hate with love

If this were so, then i would always

want to remain awake and my dreams

would then be my reveries much like

when the osprey casts its silhouette

on the Moon as its beams kiss the Sea

Mary Oliver

Nature’s whispers is the silence i choose,

the fuel for my solitude

the song of the wolf inspires the verve within,

the rustling whispers of the trees educate me

and the wild flowers that ornament the earth,

dress the verdant skirt of all that walks upon it

the wind brings messages from the rivers and streams

of all whose poems lyrics have borrowed from

so i lie here drinking the Sun as the sky dangles it

and the mountains tickle its belly

soon the Eagle flies o’er and let’s me know

the Moon will soon be visiting with all its children

and i shall close mine eyes and pray like you

Mary Oliver (may you rest gently on your bed)

immortality called Love

let us dance, so to distract

our wanting to live versus to die,

to consume life with the heart

and not just to rationalize

it is this that will inspire the desire

to be free as a man of ‘flesh and bone’

in a world despicable of words misused

to attain false-hoods through lies

we are in the midst of a transitioning

from the long standing of simplistic

primordial existence, one of blind selfishness

yielding only darkness, into a world of light

we must open our minds to the spirit that

surrounds us, the intrinsic fiber sewed in

the universe, that which is the verve of Life,

the epiphany of Unamuno’s, Gasset’s, Paz’s

life, the desire for immortality; Love

footsteps left behind

i hope, at minimum, the flower and tree
that i've sat before and underneath,
the wind whose whispers of wisdom 
has kept me company in my solitude, 
the running spring and its residents 

hoping the aves that observe me from above
while i reside in this mundane space on this 
sojourn, they will have witnessed a spirit
sated with the verve of life

for i cherish the air that i breathe,
footsteps that i am leaving behind,
songs that i am singing and words
both spoken and written from a heart
never full but always giving

fire and storms

devastation of storms and floods appear 
then come the hell of fires and words are
said from a tongue of sharpen blades not for 
the sake of pain for loss or sorrow but for the sake
of their own tomorrow 

the flower does not blame the wind
for its loss of petals, the rain for
their wilting, the sun for being parched
with too much heat or for the night
stealing the day

in selfishness and greed there is
no good that comes but a sadness
and lament avails for the souls departed
and all who is left are the lonely and  
the cold hearted