Three works

I.

Cycle I

I see the leaves are slowly beginning to change

as the colors of summer blend to fall.

The vitality of life slipping away

each leaf clinging to its life source.

A vice grip, it knows all too well will weaken

the cycle of life always winning out.

Yet nature has a way of tantalizing the senses

before each leaf surrenders to its eventual fate.

A bountiful landscape of color painting the sky

how perfect this day will be.  

Cycle II

We are born, we are taught, we learn

the stages of development pass.

We watch, we listen, we feel, we try

everything we program in our minds.

We laugh and we cry, we grow up asking why

and in a blink of time we have changed.

From child to adult, we now so much on our own

no longer our parents, nature has a way.

2.

Somehow related

Time is measured through a bottle

the day to day count one by one

month to month the cycle repeated

empty bottle again re-filled.

I have no control over how it is received

I say what I say

you hear what you hear

to separate paths converging

destined for an exact point

from here anything can happen.

How easy and often it is to think back to a different time

not necessarily an easier time

each phase of living has its pharaohs

a different time and place

that all it was.

3.

The star

“A poem is an energy transfer.” Charles Olson

Everyone is a poet living a poem

Just keep writing whatever comes to heart

Trungpa’s dictum, “First thoughts best thoughts.”

Let arise what arises and the next arises

The equality of thought is the playground

Each day’s offering revealed in a poem

Poetry wants to be the headline above the fold

“Inspirare” means the “the breath” breathes through you

Exhaling the poem onto the page

Words having a mind of their own

Wanting to live as a poem