The Sandbox Puzzle

I'm not sure where it went -- the sand.

But I do know, had interest not waned,
My father and I could have approached
Perpetual motion,
He, supplying new sand as
I quickly dug through it to the treasure --
At worse, dirty sand
At best, solid earth
That turned to mud when it rained
And held the shape of a road far longer
Than its grainy cousin.

But perspectives change.

Somewhere along the way
I ceased being the excavator
and became the supplier.

I still don't know where it goes -- the sand.

Iowa Poetry Day Association, 1980

The Dream Merchant

As a mighty warrior
Astride his glowing steed,
The dream merchant
with flashing steel
Forcefully charges,
Lopping heads
From peaceful moments.

Now, as a peddler he comes
Hawking his wares
From beast drawn cart,
Accompanied by the
Syncopated music of
Rocking pots and pans.

This master of men's souls
Dons countless robes
Ensuring a constant demand
By mortals in need of
Encouragement, direction
Or release from pain.

National Poetry Anthology, 1982-1983

Two Heavenly Bodies

The sun rose new while yet the moon did shine
And two such bodies in the sky gave pause;
Such light upon the virgin snow so fine,
Two candles in my mind at once could cause
Me to remember or to dream at will
And present time to stop without a trace,
To be replaced by thoughts of love that fill
My yesterdays. Tomorrow when the pace
That moves me racing on will surely slow
And dreams become what I remember best,
I'll think with joy of wonders that I know
And marvel at the friends with whom I'm blest.
     Although my life and love will end too soon,
     I smile; my life holds both the sun and moon.

Iowa Poetry Day Association, 1982

Be Gentle

The breeze which so lately
rustled the leaves of the cottonwood
Now embraces the pine and lifts the hawk
over the mountain top.

The water that urged the seeds
to push toward the heavens
Now fills the stream and the cup
put to my lips.

The stars overhead about which
Vincent dreamed and went mad
Now mark the celestial highway
my mind journeys upon.

As the sea is not diminished
by the number of shores it touches.
So the bounty of nature remains intact
when touched by a gentle, caring hand.

The Picture Inside, 1983

Movement at Will

The universe is there - it surrounds
me - us;
Elemental accessibility
to be employed,
to be savored,
to be pursued.
Mine for the asking - this universe -
If only I've the courage to ask -
not with words - for talk can't build
a house.

But movement - one step and another -
Then stillness followed by more movement
from here to there,
again and again.

In command, I am, this fair ship and
its journey are mine - to make what
I will,
to go or no at WILL -- the key
to the Universe
and my part in its Being.

Poetry.com, 2003

Services |  Resume |  Clips |  Contact |  Links |