Monthly Archives: September 2013

Together At Last

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:


We’ve traveled many miles,

Both you and I,

Always searching

For when and why.


Our pathways meandered

In different directions,

Overcoming many obstacles,

Mixed with objections.


Dark clouds and emotions

Fulfilled our days,

As we struggled along

Our own separate ways.


The hunger never died,

Instead it actually grew,

Propelling us forward

As life turned its screw.


Let others hoot and moan

Their pitiful dirge,

Because, by mere chance,

Our pathways did merge.


Together we stand

As a powerful shield,

Radiating sunshine’s rays

Which we both wield.


What’s mine is yours;

What’s yours is mine.

We know “who” we are;

Let the others mark time.


Let’s not say forever,

Who can fathom that deep?

Today is enough…

Forever ours to keep.


This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

Raindrops falling steadily

Splashing into dimpled pools,

Making soft music.

Countless tiny, wet bodies

Sacrifice themselves willingly

To give refreshing drink.

Suddenly, emerging sunlight

Brings a dazzling ending

To the falling slaughter.

A single droplet clings

To a leaf while straining

To join its fallen comrades.

Caught by a sun-lit ray,

Magnifying its brilliance —

‘Tis truly a most beautiful jewel.

Boring Words

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:


Mumbo, Jumbo! Mumbo, Jumbo!

Monotone; loud and clear,

Bouncing off hallowed walls,

Bouncing off my ear.


Ears hear the words, but then,

They don’t really listen.

There are words and words, piled on top of words,

Yet the message is somehow missing.


To class you go, anticipation aglow,

Completely, academically gird.

Oh, Boy! What joy! You hear words,

And words, on top of words.


Random Thoughts

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:


Oh, Merry Go Round of life,

Treadmill of my dreams,

Concrete jungle,

Polluted Streams.


High-rise buildings blot out the sun,

Smog-filled air,

Slum sections teeming decay

And suppressed life, despair.


A question, urgently stirring

About wings spread and whirring.

Freedom to move in uncluttered space —

Tiny forms darting and blurring.


Will the swallows care to come back to Capistrano?

The Path

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:


A son of the dirt since my birth,

I look back without rancor or mirth,

And — I remember.


Polished words did not pass my lips,

Nor fine clothes touch my fingertips,

And — I remember.


Without inheritance in the land,

Through struggles and hunger, I grew into a man,

And  — I remember.


Beaten but never bowed,

In the School of Hard Knocks I was endowed,

And — I remember.


Wealth and power were never my goal.

I wanted water for thirst, food for my soul,

And — it happened.


No longer hungry or thirsty, I’m fed and gird.

I’m finding the answers, written in the Word,

And — I won’t forget.


I’ve found the path that’ll take me home,

And I’ll go in peace, remembering,

As I say, “Shalom!”



This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:


I’ve climbed snow-capped mountains,

Searched lush valleys below.

I’ve trekked through high aspen meadows,

Drinking where hidden streams flow.


I’ve climbed over lofty crags

And walked through wildflower meadows where you roam.

I’ve smelled spruce-laden air

In the untamed beauty you trod and know as home.


I’ve searched when hot and thirsty,

Muscles crying out in pain.

I’ve hunted while wet and hungry

Against your allies, snow and rain.


When matching wits, my hunter’s tricks

Have all seemed to fail,

Yet your courage and strength never falter

As nature helps you prevail.


Each year, aspen trees

Begin wearing coats of red and gold,

When campfires flicker in the mountains

Against night air, crispy cold.


My ears strain to catch a bugle call,

Which splits the clean, clear air.

The mighty stag, Wapiti,

Is moving in his lair.


Yes, I’ll answer his ringing challenge,

For not to respond would cause me pain.

It’s time to once more play hide-and-seek

On his terms, in his terrain.


These thoughts come from Autumn Leaves:


The marvel of life…

Like the unfolding petals of the rose,

Awakening to greet the first warm rays of the morning sun.


The marvel of life…

Like a microscopic speck mingled in the cosmic dust of the universe,

Dawdling and dancing to the muted dreams of eternity.


The marvel of life…

Toiling unceasingly with the aspirations of its gender,

Gathering the wisdom of the ages, dreaming the dreams of by-gone eras.


The marvel of life…

Growing hot, waxing brighter in the pursuit of achievement,

Yet, when suppressed and thwarted constantly by unknown forces,

Flickers and finally dies.


This thought comes from Autumn Leaves:


Open country, clear streams,

Fresh air, wild life and green trees,

Rugged beauty,

Fresh sights and smells

Enter the body in two’s and three’s.

Clarion mating call of the bull elk in rut.

Outdoorsman life style —

That’s the one for me!

Momma Bear and the Clown

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:


Momma Bear spoke so softly,

“You know, I’ve seen you around.

I’ve been waiting for someone just like you.

Please, don’t make a sound.”


“If you’ll just listen quietly,

I’ll tell you how I feel.

Just look down deep into my eyes.

You’ll see my feeling’s real.”


“I know you’re usually laughing,

But I see you’re sad inside.

Because I feel true vibrations,

Emotions you can’t hide.”


“Come stay with me for awhile,

And I’ll soothe your aches and pains.

I’ll brighten the spots on your face,

And really make you smile.”


The clown looked at Momma Bear,

His heart like pick-up sticks.

Caution weaved through his mind,

‘Cause bears and clowns don’t mix.


He gazed into her large brown eyes.

Her love came shining through.

He dwelled languorously there

In limpid pools of sunshine and skies of blue.


The end begins here with words,

Yet not a single sound.

Listen carefully to laughter’s merry peals.

Smile — it’s just Momma Bear and her Clown.


All Is Well

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:


I hear You calling

From high mountains.

Among stately spruce trees,

I hear You whisper:


“Peace be still…always.

I walk before you.

Straight is the pathway.

All is well.”


In quiet places, I seek You

And carefully listen,

For in my mind I hear

Your voice softly speaking.


My refreshed spirit soars

Upward in exultation,

Unfolding in reverence,

Know and accepting.


Yes, Peace is Mine…

Your gift to all who

Seek to know You.

All is well. All is well.

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