Humanity Leaves
Let me leave the earth better than I found it
By wearing the leaves of listening and empathy
Growing, unfurling, receptive in form and fashion
Let me leave others more comforted than I found them
By sharing the leaves of their pain and longings
Collecting, preserving, validated in their proffering
Let me leave my children deeper than I ever was
By planting the leaves of wisdom and grace
Teaching, sharing, enunciated in my living
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The Soliloquy of Sea Glass
Discards we are, emptied of value
Cast aside, forgotten, meaningless
Our varied hues bartered no regard
In being retained, kept or refilled.
Some shattered while some whole
Stripped of purpose, riding hither
And yon upon the global currents
Which we could not control
Our original intent was consumed
Then invalidated by our abrupt release,
That weighted existence forced
A downward path into the dark
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Sheet Music
If I were a melody in your mind, how would you write me?
In Adagio perhaps, as in the best way to approach.
Would you linger over Staccato, to match your heartbeat in my presence?
And although some may prefer Delicato,
It seems best paired with Appassionato, as two hearts enfold into one.
With tempo written, how would then you elicit my sound?
Gentle finger strokes upon ivory, scaling the highs and lows
Lovingly drawing a bow long and slow across heartstrings, echoing
Would you form the strong embouchure required of the reeds and brass
Or be the pounding, driving force holding together the pace found in the percussion line.
Juggle Not
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I was busy juggling all of the expectations
So I didn’t see what there was to see
Or where I was going
But only where I thought you thought I should be going
My traveling clothes were always ready
For whatever you could envision
“I’m there” I’d cry excitedly and off we’d go
To someplace foreign and exotic designed by your mind.
Inconclusive
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It is there, and it whispers in and among thoughts
Barely evident, like a shadow, perhaps imagined
Draping my collarbone weightlessly
Taking my elbow and guiding through the crowd in my mind
Turn my head, trying to avoid it, not look at it
But wanting to look far more closely
Daring not, it is too early
For looking askance at something intangible
The Impetuarian 