THE FALCON
Far above the mountains,
In the realm of cloud,
Aloft was a slate-gray falcon
Fierce and fast and proud.
A stranger to the ground,
It swooped and dropped and roared,
Magnificence unbound,
It caught the wind and soared.
And though it can’t be said,
With certainty, I’ll concede,
I swear that creature sped
With such withering high speed—
It shattered space
And demolished time,
And with a final burst that left no trace
It split asunder the fundamental elements of rhyme.
A RIPPLE IN ETERNITY
The song of a skylark fills the air
While morning dawns upon the world;
Sunlight gathers bright and fair
As yet another day is unfurled.
Skies above are a brilliant hue
Without a cloud to mar the whole;
A vast canvas — bold and blue
That resonates deep within my soul.
Long will we ponder life’s great mystery
As gentle breezes around us blow;
We are a brief ripple in eternity
A single leaf on time’s great tidal flow.
WITH A LUMINOUS BRUSH
​
Life surrounds me with its endless crush of time,
Like a wave breaking on a distant shoal,
And ever up my weary legs will climb
Until I might claim my transfigured soul.
Perched atop this ancient, lofty crest
Far above all that transpires below
I feel my spirit late upon a quest
To find those things that shine and gleam and glow.
When I finally wake from this dream of life,
And hear again the ceaseless song of the thrush,
I will once more stand above all this strife
And paint the sky with a luminous brush.
SONNET V
​
Like a pilgrim, I am drawn to beauty,
I am drawn to those things not soon forgot
Whose colors burst forth beyond all degree
To mingle with those ideals I once sought.
The play of light upon the arc of sky
Is but a pale reflection of those things
That exist in realms that exceed the eye
And enfold all our lives within their wings.
Only on the mountaintops of this world,
High above great clusters of clouds below,
Do I behold life’s grand canvas unfurled
And feel eternity’s pulsing ebb and flow.
Such beauty helps our souls ascend and fly
To those bright realms that fill the vast blue sky.
WITH THE AWAKENING OF THE DAWN
​
Please pull the blinds on all our earthly fears
And let the sun's rays dwindle out of sight;
The fading songs of birds will in my ears
Lull me into soft dreams and restful night.
But with the awakening of the dawn,
Like a herald arrayed in raiment fair,
All trace of blackest night will be withdrawn
And halos of light shall adorn my hair.
Never will I ask why it should be so
That these deep pleasures of the earth and sky,
That fill up each day and each tomorrow,
Should like diadems pass before my eye.
Let us not dwell upon these mysteries
Lest we disassemble all lovely things,
But simply upon this one moment seize
And, like gods, rise aloft on soaring wings.
SAMARKAND
(In Homage to James Elroy Flecker)
Now as the flaming sun falls towards the West,
And colors flare and fade across the sky,
I will not succumb to sleep, nor to rest,
But strike the ancient harp before I die.
Its strains will take me back to distant lands,
Where bearded prophets spoke out clear and bold;
They spoke of towers, gems, and scorching sands;
Of altars, angry gods, and cups of gold.
A place where lemon trees bore ample fruit;
A place ringed by great mountains capped with snow;
There I once played the celestial flute
And watched hanging gardens mature and grow.
I sit here now, and yet in my mind's sharp eye,
I see long caravans plod across the sand;
I see tall towers pierce the cobalt sky;
And Pilgrims on their way to Samarkand.
I AM THE ALBATROSS
(Inspired by Sara Vial)
​
I am the great wandering Albatross,
Whose wingspan fills the sky.
I carry the mark of St. Brendan’s cross
For all those whom the fates deny.
I am the soul of the sailor,
Who was lost upon the sea;
Whose spirit dwells forever
In the realm of eternity.
For when the winds blow and roar
And my voice calls out to thee
Echoing across the wild, windswept shore,
I am the Albatross and the Albatross is me.
IN ANCIENT TIMES
​
In ancient times when the world was young,
And the music of birdsong filled the air,
And every song that was newly sung
Was a beautiful tune, serene and fair.
Then life was strewn with fragrant flowers
And the skies above were vast and deep;
Gentle fell sweet summer showers
And the world slumbered in a timeless sleep.
Now things have changed, and never from their lips
Do poets speak today of Golden Times-
When even the wind coined words and quips
That rang with rhythm, meter, verse, and rhyme.
A WORLD OF THINGS SUBLIME
​
Let the gods above us bless
All things that nature makes divine:
The soft felt grass, the wind's caress,
The grapes that ripen on the vine.
The frenzy of a maenad's kiss
The dew on a flower's stem
The ecstasy of eternal bliss;
The brilliance of a fine cut gem.
On the earth and in the skies,
All these shine outside of time;
In my soul and before my eyes,
I see a world of things sublime.
AUTUMN COLORS
​
Autumn colors paint the trees in broad strokes
What once was lively now in twilight lies;
Even the wind, once gentle, now provokes
Sad memories of loss and long goodbyes.
For though we think we stand on solid ground,
We think our legs and feet are planted firmly,
The myriad colors of life abound
In this one quiet hour of eternity.
The stately drama of this world unfolds
While above us radiant beauty flies
To realms of beyond where lie manifold
Splendors so varied as to fill the skies.
If there is some unrevealed glory,
Some hidden light that burns with utmost hue,
And in this life shines with brilliant beauty,
I will, perforce, discover it anew.
THE WIND AMONG THE TREES
​
Strolling through the hills on a summer’s eve,
Underfoot the grass is soft and green;
Such moments give the mind reprieve
To bask in all that is beautiful and serene.
Though this world will continue
And we will somehow stumble along
Through the inevitable tragedies that ensue,
Our hearts may still sing their cheerful songs.
So let’s surround ourselves with green places,
And stop the search for something more;
Let’s be content with life’s simple graces
And with the natural world find rapport.
Moments like these flash a second in our eyes,
Though they last a thousand years.
As we direct our gaze to the skies
We find a diminution in all our fears.
When the eyes are open and the soul is stirred,
In will sweep a soft and gentle breeze
And the only sound that will be heard
Is the wind among the trees.
NATURE’S KEY
​
The natural world, the sages say
Holds the key to unlock life's great mystery;
Every plant and every tree point the way
Toward the path that leads to eternity.
So let us praise the hills
And raise our voices to the trees
Sway and bend with the daffodils
And try to grasp the breeze.
Follow a waterfall to its source
Track the flight of a swift
Let none deter you from your course
For a life well lived is a rare, precious gift.
Bequeathed to us is the world
In all its flaws and majesty.
Its beauty lies unfurled
If only we have eyes to see.
For our lives we find
Are connected to a larger whole
One inextricably entwined
With each and every soul.
SONNET I
​
In the skies above there is great beauty
Whose symmetry once glimpsed is not forgot
In the dark, vast sea of eternity,
It is the touchstone the sages have sought.
Let it fall on my shoulders, mantle-wise
And fold me in its warm, secure embrace,
Only then will my weary soul arise
To gaze upon some far ancestral place--
Where the world burns brightly with all we touch,
And dreams, long dormant, spring to life once more
Acquire wings, and with hope enough to clutch
At such currents by which our souls might soar.
Those things that we once found but never claimed,
Let them brighten the world in brilliant flame.
DARK SHADOWS ADRIFT
​
Oft have I seen dark shadows adrift
Loosed from hoary chambers of my mind.
What caused this between gods and man -- this rift
That sunders all, and severs sacred time?
The dreams of reality that play out
In broken shards of faith and splintered deeds,
These once were things that left no doubt
But now are cast like chattel among the weeds.
Oft have I been on sleepless nights forlorn,
Following trackless paths of my mind,
Pulled apart in body and soul -- torn
Between the profane and divine.
And yet the dawn will break with a blaze of fire,
The skies will fill with incandescent light,
And the world, newly minted with desire,
Will lift my soul to an unimagined height.
And from there all the earth will seem a toy,
A polished bauble, so clean so shiny so new,
And I shall find myself again a boy,
Wide-eyed, curious -- eager to follow through
On plans to set minds aflame with awe;
To probe the very depths of endless time;
And discover that what I thought I saw
Was simply each link in the chain of golden rhyme.
THE FRAGMENT OF A DREAM
​
I cannot choose which path my soul will take,
Nor yet hear the music that floats above;
Each portrait of my past informs my days,
And calls forth the soft cooing of a dove.
Those faint whispers that between our lips fell
Were carried by the gentle winds of May;
Like flower petals scattered on a lake
Each one a witness to the break of day.
I cannot say which way the wind will blow
Or why the songbird ceases in the night.
Or why the dark-eyed goddess bends her hand
And commands the sun to shine down its light.
But I can feel the breeze upon my brow,
And hear the soft murmuring of a stream;
I sit here now and wonder if all this
Is simply the mere fragment of a dream.
AN OCEAN OF ETERNITY
When we look upon this world,
It’s a single moment that we see,
Each strung together and unfurled,
They form an ocean of eternity.
If we could but linger awhile here,
In this warm and pleasant place,
All those things that we now fear
Would disappear and leave no trace.
Some things last a thousand years,
While others race before our eyes;
Truths that once brought bitter tears
Now scatter like raindrops in clear skies.
THE BEAUTY IN BETWEEN
​
When we look upon the world,
Our eyes are invariably drawn
To those things that dazzle and unfurl
Their charms to all but then are gone.
In a world where pleasures last an instant,
And colors pale when touched,
Let us find a lasting brilliance,
Something that can be claimed and clutched.
These gems that we acquire
Will prove their worth in time.
Such things will neither fragment nor expire,
But lead us to paths sublime.
These paths will guide us ably
To those things long unforeseen,
And to what was once claimed to be the beauty
That is formed in the spaces in between.
THE SONG OF ETERNITY
In the breathless tranquil of the morning,
When the thrush has begun her ancient song,
I see the silent shadows lingering
And feel the vivid vibrance of the dawn.
There are moments that fire every heart
And burst the very fabric of the sky;
For though we think we stand alone, apart,
Some see our souls ascend to places high.
The world's light makes brighter our belief
In those things our eyes often fail to see
Like how the simple falling of a leaf
Is the selfsame song of eternity.
THE ANCIENT HUNTSMAN
​
The grim grey gods are passing
The horn of the huntsman sounds
Above, storm clouds are massing;
Night rings with the bark of hounds.
Herne gallops through the forest
While thunder cracks overhead;
The horned god wails his chorus
And shadows rise from the dead.
Lightning flashes, sharp and bright
Cutting through the air;
Ancient shadows of the night
Howl as the trumpets blare.
Hooves flash like pristine fire
Pounding against the ground
Igniting a funeral pyre
That exceeds both sight and sound.
SACRED WATERS
​
High above in ancient mountains
Sacred waters pool and flow;
They race like raging fountains
To fertile valleys far below.
The muse upon her lyre
Sings of times long past
With words conceived in ambient fire
Her songs are unsurpassed.
Here it is perpetual spring
No boughs covered in white snow
Only a land where merry finches sing
And gentle breezes ever blow.
This land is a place of beauty
And christened with a crown divine;
All around each fern and tree
Echo meter, rhythm, verse and rhyme.
I BEHOLD THE BEAUTY
​
I behold the beauty of this earth
In the single petal of a flower.
Feel the stirrings of my soul’s rebirth
In each year and day and hour.
And though much more might be said,
As I watch the generations come and go,
I feel my spirit urged and led
To the place where flowers sway and blow.
SIMPLE THINGS
​
There was a time when all felt hollow;
Everything in life seemed a chore,
And all I could do was wallow,
And wish and hope for something more.
But now having seen the flowers,
And heard the larks sing in the trees
And sat beneath the shady bowers
And cozied up to all of these—
My mind is no longer dour
And in place of the spiteful anger
A new sense has blossomed, like a flower,
And turned the skeptic to believer.
If one can see the simple things
For what they truly are
This vision will carry one as if on wings
To vistas beyond the farthest star.
To watch a bird fly and soar
To see a deer upon the plain
To feel, experience, and explore
The hills after a gentle rain.
These in their way are little wonders,
Each one a miraculous thing,
That splits the mind asunder
And makes all the senses sing.
Those simple things I once scorned
Are now the mortar of my soul;
They form the jewels that adorn
My spirit’s journey toward its goal.
THE SILENCE
Let the rain fall where it may
While I gather up the things that matter
And on some blossoming day
My light will shine all the brighter.
For though we stumble
Our feet yet seek to climb
To those heights deemed unattainable
By minds trapped in form and time.
Within each and every individual
Resides a formless essence
The wellspring of the all
That shines with brilliant incandescence.
Beyond all words and thought
It dwells in stillness sublime
It is the silence the sages have sought
In all eras and through all time.
ORPHEUS ONCE PLAYED
​
What is this music that I hear,
Coming from the earth and sky?
Like the music of the spheres,
It pierces heart and mind and eye.
When the summer breeze blows strong
And sweeps across the vast blue sea
Then will I watch and wait and long
For whatever the gods give to me.
May they sing an ancient choral,
Or upon my eager brow bestow
A garland of brightest, softest laurel
That will shine and gleam and glow.
Orpheus once played his golden lyre
In pastures alive with fox and deer,
The notes floating like radiant fire,
The tune bracing, sweet, and clear.
But now soft twilight beckons
And ‘round this single, once grand hill
All falls quiet and time is reckoned
In sighs and whispers, soft and still.
UPON SUCH RUINS
​
Upon such ruins of our love
New altars will be built;
Towers to pierce the sky above
And walls to gird our guilt.
I once took you by the hand
In distant days, soft and fair
And showed you a faraway land
Where dwelt the answer to a prayer.
And in this place of scented bliss,
Where small things rose on wings of fire,
You asked of me no more than this—
Cease not your wanting or desire,
But let the heavens fall like stars
To rain upon the ramparts of the mind;
Leave only those celestial scars
That mark the passage of souls entwined.
THE ETERNAL HOUR
​
The stillness of the afternoon descends like a falling leaf,
Fluttering to the earth with a gentle sigh.
In such times all my pent-up grief
Dissipates, and scatters like rose petals to the sky.
The sparrows sing in the trees above
Songs that float down upon my ears
Each note an ideal reflection of
My heart's longing to shed its bitter tears.
In these quiet moments of reflection
As my mind wanders idle
My thoughts turn from all that is maudlin
To those things that are true and right and vital.
Who am I, why am I here, and what is love?
These are the questions I find myself asking
As I gaze at the sun and sky above
And search for something real and lasting.
The clouds move and drift about
Like waves upon the sea
Each one dissipating all my doubt
And allowing me a brief glimpse of eternity.
THOSE ANCIENT GODS OF OLD
We stand on monuments of the past
Blind to what has come before
Seeing only what our hands might grasp
And discounting all that smacks of ancient lore.
But to me have spoken the gods of old
Their voices like thunder from the skies
Speaking of those things once foretold,
And flashing like lightening before my eyes.
Though we have long forgotten
Though we believe our lives are set,
There will come a time when all is broken
And our souls like starving men will fret
For more than can be supplied
By our present philosophy.
And then those things beyond the horizon wide
Will burst forth in reams of beauty.
And from all that is coarse and grim
Our souls will fly their way
To realms where skies are a-brim
With boundless joy and eternal play.
So let us not their words forget
What we were once foretold
To us while we slumbered and slept
By those ancient gods of old.
THE ANCIENT ONE
Far back one must go
To find the time of his birth.
When the world was aglow
Like an ember from the hearth.
His name is spoken in whispers
His form occasionally glimpsed;
He dwells among the ancient cedars
Like an ephemeral will-o-the-wisp.
His ways are hard to fathom,
His art is the art that's never done,
Across the face of the moon flies a dragon
Bearing the mark of the Ancient One.
ODE TO THE FOREST
Morning mist swirls about the trees
And the grass is damp with dew.
Life neither stalls nor hurries
But engages its endless cycle anew.
Each bud and flower and leaf
Each stem and branch and limb
All must experience a brief
Blossoming; like the ephemeral smile of a cherubim.
The natural world holds and surrounds
And into our soul infuses
A healing power that astounds
Amazes, regenerates, and cleanses.
To walk a path through the trees
Is to partake of life's great whole;
To feel upon one's face a breeze
Is to soothe and calm the soul.
The ferns and trees of the forest
Are the materials with which I build
The foundation I'll call my life's chorus
That will sing my fate fulfilled.
And once my soul is gone
And once my spirit has found its rest
And when so much will be withdrawn
All that remains will be the forest.
ON SOME MELODIOUS PLOT OF GREENERY
On some melodious plot of greenery,
Between what passes for the earth and skies,
There is a satisfaction that exceeds
All I behold with mortal eyes.
I stand and watch the flame of a dying sun,
As gentle breezes through scented gardens blow;
It is a sign that all will one day pass
Carried away on Time's great tidal flow.
THE DREAM OF SOLITUDE
High upon a lofty hill
Above green fields below
The winds are calm and still
And my heart is set aglow--
To mingle with the flowers
To sway among the trees
To soar above such towers
That may lie beyond the seas.
If there is a hidden essence
That my eyes have never viewed
I'll stand before such brilliance
And seek the dream of solitude.
NOTES PLAYED
Notes played upon a well-strung lyre
Are soothing raindrops on my soul,
Each a whisper of a lost desire
That seeks reunion with the whole.
We walk upon this earth too short a time
To see those things that pass us by;
Those minute things that are sublime
In this world beneath the far-flung sky.
THE SPLENDOR OF YOUR EYES
Let the rain fall where it may
While I gather up the things that matter;
And on some blossoming day
My light shall burn all the brighter.
For though we stumble,
Our feet yet seek to climb
To those heights deemed unattainable
By minds trapped in form and time.
The scent of a violet is bittersweet
It lasts but a fleeting time;
So let us find the words to complete
All our sonnets and our rhymes.
And should heaven ever fall to earth
Or the stars drop like comets from the skies,
I will not doubt my sense of worth
For I have seen the splendor of your eyes.
FINAL GOODBYES
Morning brings the song of larks
Drifting airily among the trees,
While below gathered souls are poised
Each whispered voice carried away upon the breeze.
The kind embrace of dawn
Fills our cups to ample brim,
And to each and every lovely thing
Is sung both a praise and hymn.
To be borne upon the wind,
To feel the body begin anew
Is to shed the weight of years
And all those things that ring untrue.
We count our days and bless our nights
As before our wistful, watching eyes
We see hands raised in somber salute
To mark us with their final goodbyes.
WISDOM
Wisdom, the elixir from which is poured
All the storied sentiments of the past;
We watch them drain away upon the floor
And hope beyond all hope that some might last.
The fate of humankind is written here
In these pallid reflections we behold.
And we stumble along from year to year
Watching our lives like shooting stars unfold.
Testaments to our overarching reach,
The finished works of man stand bare and thin,
Like bleached bones strewn upon a driftwood beach,
Each one a fragment of what might have been.
THINGS WE HAVE LEFT BEHIND
Beyond this world there lies a distant plain;
Some field where lilies brighten wintry skies,
And all around us joyful things do reign
Like nymphs cavorting before our very eyes.
The earth is verdant with flowers there;
These burst forth with fragrant, fulsome life;
They compel us to partake and to share
Of things far grander than this petty strife.
And yet, when we awake, and dreams do fade,
And pale shadows fill the waking mind,
Figures will emerge that once were shade,
But now are things that we have left behind.