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Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Sunday, November 2, 2014
Oasis Spirit
Like vapor briefly on a mirror
Those for the world, too sensitive
Sense the presences around us
Past the blinding corporeal fog.
In my journey's springtime far
In dire time of spiritual thirst
Summoned by oasis radiant
With misty leading ethereal chorus.
At the well, in repose the spirit
Invisible, supposed, to this stranger
Like all others, her well they sought
She unaware of eyes perceiving.
"Speak!" I said, only an echo
But felt the startled spirit near
The chill of loneliness uttered
Entered, she, my mind's eye.
I touched the lip, peered down the well
Too deep for me to see the darkness
Night consumed, she conveyed
Desire's not in the darkened bottom
"What offering have I, to know your truth?"
I spoke aloud for habit's sake
The answer, silence, but understood
The lonely chill became now warmth.
Winter Words
Ideas rain and drench a train
Destined for the final season
Chosen last, the littlest one,
for summer games, walks with a cane.
Destined for the final season
Chosen last, the littlest one,
for summer games, walks with a cane.
Its white beard soon impedes and covers
Cursed by youth, who cannot wait
Slowing life, showing age
Hide away fall's foliage color
Each winter, now, I remember
Though the year seems blurred together
Freed words melt from frozen eaves
Erode my dwelling's fragile edge.
Time to clear the season's hearth
Winter words, frozen still
Flow to sense when brought to bear
The season's twilight's glow and ember.
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