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All trace of blackest night will be withdrawn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.
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.
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.
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.