Universal tone

We linger in the sands of memory
slipping,
sliding beneath-
no mark remaining,
nothing concrete,
solid.
A mere echo of what once was
like grasses gathering piles,
this and that caught up
in the Western wind that blows,
the universal tone
like singing bowls
comforting,
reaching in to the soul
calling you home.
Still blue green waters calm
like gentle rain in thick forests,
heady scent filling
the senses,
the memorys hold
gathering in perhaps to remember
if only for this moment
we lay like stones under the sun,
pieces of stars fallen
on windswept dunes we gather
reading the signs written above
reflective on water in reverse
from start to finish
we become at peace
in solitary fashion,
decorating this life
with who we are,
what we’ve become.

Untitled ###

I cannot give name yet,

No title to claim and change your thought

To the meaning of these words,

Letting themselves slip in

Unfiltered by a symbol,

Like the man formerly known as,

We all know the name

We all set words to the feeling

As we stand on the edge of our eternity wondering,

Waiting for someone,

Something to lead the way

And though we know there is no map,

No Google earth that can take that snapshot in time

Of a place we remember,

Of yards where dogs much smarter than we,

Stare up into the sky knowing

There is so much more out there

Than our feeble eyes can see.

So we create technology,

Moving faster,

More impressive than the days before we knew that a mouse

Was something more than what was caught in a trap,

Or plastic games taking hours to create,

Or caught within a quick cats paw.

Yet we still question,

Endlessly we question

And still stand on that edge with no answers.

But at some point in time we stop,

Perhaps accidentally or maybe even on purpose,

We linger and slow down long enough to gaze in the mirror,

To see the eyes that never quite come to rest out of fear,

Fear of being seen,

Or of knowing that the answer,

Like a simple prize valued in the Cracker Jack box,

Fingers sticky within a cardboard box digging,

Ripping open the thin paper of red, white and blue,

The one with the familiar dog that beckons us,

We in excitement so eager to break in to see our prize,

The same one that’s been here waiting all this time,

This plastic magnifying glass that will unearth the cosmic answer

The long awaited prize of an answer that we discover,

Had been lying within us,

The face in the mirror,

The one that always knew

Answers that sit on the tongue,

like the teachers pet who suddenly is afraid

Of standing out for knowing….

There’s so much more beyond the scope

But dare to search,

Lest we become disdained,

Hated for being ourselves

And shining out loud.

Minutiae of evening

Aromas rise

Crackling seeds pop off pans

Jack-O-lantern jumping beans

Scent of chili and garlic butter,

Mmmm, almost there.

Found the time to empty

Pretty orange shells

As chilled wind nips cheeks,

Feast or famine

I choose snacks.

Background noise to break the silence,

Long lost movie runs on fifty inches

As Saint Elmo’s fire burns,

Faces so young and familiar

Imaginary heroes of youth,

Don’t miss the drama 

Of The yesterday now gone,

Just seeing images of big hair

Eighties music and the gangs all there.

The winds will come

As the sun rises and I dread the cold,

But if the power slips into nothing

And I’m here hanging with my tribe,

The seeds will suffice to fill the void

Of a hot cooked meal denied,

One more reality

That fall is slipping away

With the empty skins in fields for deer

And frost will find me waiting

The simple days not gone

With pumpkin seeds warm from baking,

Hanging out with my old friends,

Demi and Emilio and Rob.

Don’t worry, three big pumpkins worth of seeds, don’t worry, I’ll save you some….maybe…..okay, one or two at least…..addictive little things.

Lovely photo found at : http://www.eckerts.com/pumpkins-pumpkins-pumpkin-seeds/