Blog Archives
Broken Dreams
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
It stands on a hilltop,
Abandoned, forlorn,
Weathered and beaten,
Shingles missing and torn.
What tales would it tell,
If talk it could?
Peeling paint clings
Precariously to ancient wood.
Its old warped floors
Probably knew tiny feet
Of children born there,
So cuddly and sweet.
Conversations crossed over
The old kitchen table…
Voices filled with hope,
And arms that were able.
With a heart full of prayer,
A bucket full of sweat,
They worked the land
The harvest to get.
No one left now
To toil on the land.
Tombstones out back
Mark the passing of man.
The old house now stands
Ramshackle, alone —
Its boards bleached out
Like a skeleton of bones.
A prayer holds it together
From breaking at the seams —
A monument to man
And his broken dreams.
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.
Levels
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Speak diligently, strive hard
Seeking to find
Higher truths, awareness levels…
Always use your mind.
First level, fresh mind,
Everything new, white as chalk.
Learned to speak, began to think,
Slowly learned to walk.
Second Level, awkward years,
Body strong, learning right from wrong.
Having fun, wild free years,
Lackadaisical attitude, trying to belong.
Third Level, maturity, responsibilities,
Striving to fulfill our dreams,
Different places, varied faces,
Drowning in waterless streams.
Fourth Level, yearning yet stable,
Successful, empty, desire burning.
Appreciation of art, beauty, humanity,
Thoughts always churning.
Fifth Level, consciousness abides.
A foreboding feeling,
Something surely missing,
Emptiness, realization stealing.
Sixth Level, words like stone,
Deep impressions stand alone.
A deep, soft voice says, “Welcome,”
Chill inside my bones.
Seventh Level, deep voice, all-wise,
Henceforth and upwards is paradise,
Length, depth and breadth,
Measured with cubic rod.
Speak with praise forevermore,
Wrapped in Love,
Praise His Holy name for
You now speak with GOD!
Remember When
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
The way we were blends
Into the way we are.
The way we are
Becomes the way we were.
The way we were becomes
“Remember when?” And
In each other’s eyes
We’ll be young again!
Artist
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Paint with strokes of love,
Brush warmth of summer sun,
Birds fluttering all about,
And clear, blue skies above.
Paint happy trees, merry streams,
Stroke in children’s laughter,
Happy dogs and cats,
Lemon light of drowsy dreams.
Stroke in cool, green grass,
Quiet, existing limpid pools,
Browns of a robust mountain;
Blend them like sands in an hourglass.
Paint no sadness on life’s canvas,
Her presence already abounds;
Life is loaded with her morass,
So…just paint in happy sounds.
Flight
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
To move unfettered in air so rare and pure,
Beneath or above endless banks of clouds.
Unshackled to soar in mind and spirit
To remove earth’s burdensome shroud.
Could an eagle speak, would he
Hold us in contempt or in utter disdain,
Poor earth-bound creatures, animals of habit,
Foul air, daily tasks mundane.
Spread mighty silver wings,
Soar above the patch-work quilt pattern below.
Fly softly, free spirited,
But fly reverently as you go.
Diminished horizons, skies blue and clear,
Atmosphere charged with laughter,
Intangible, invisible
Because other spirits linger here.
To leave earth’s cluttered pull, to explore, to seek,
To know, to find lasting contentment,
To search out the truth of the universe
And to know God is man’s essence and ultimate destiny.