Poetry Pages

wild woods
raging within that wilderness
where life emerges

a breeze
flows through my hair

and somehow
it energies me

Why?

maybe I feel
the spirits
that live here

birds chattering
amongst themselves

conversations
understood only
by themselves

yes we still
feel their presence

and we honor you

Sandstone reaches
found on the horizon
where Anasazi spirits roam
and if one listens
wisdom can be heard
drum beats sound in the sunset
southwest mountains
and deserts
sacred spirits rise
where horizons reach to the sun
watch for the wind
new paths
where in one looks
truth is somehow found
paths of the soul
whispers
in that value of silence
reach into the clouds
and find what you can

day dreams

held past that imaginary line

whispers that somehow speaks to one

rivulets of memories

pouring like a river

embracing what will be



glistening glimmerings

eternal findings

illuminations

risen past that knowledge



currents of changes

promised within that beginning

bearings of miracles

held in simple pleasure



resonance in answers

where passion

finds a revelation in truth

Settled through that
honored wind
where a crisp breeze
finds a memory
sheltered in a heart of time

Could it be
through that whisper
somehow we find a purity?

where answers flow
like honey
within the spring

those circles of seasons
walk softly

and the wisdom of nature
reveals
all her secrets

those rhythms
carry one away
in a simple simplicity

overlooking the sandstone cliffs
eyes leer in from the shadows
awaiting the prey

there the cougar leaps
and knocks down the deer
in a moments notice

so quick is the hunt
the cougar kills
its prey

the mother yelps
for her children
to come eat

in the distance
from the underbrush
comes two cubs
to join their mother
for the feast
that is to come

truth
sometimes is fleeting at best
depending on the perspective
of what one is looking at
and yet
it's best
to somehow find it
it disappears
when light directly is shown at it
yes...
I'm saying the greys
that stray in between
find their place
in today's reality
and somehow
truth escapes
between the cracks
and is never seen
for what it should be

if it seems
that I'm today's cynic
then find a way
to show me that I'm wrong
show me the hope
show me the love
show me the joy
that seems to be missing
in this world of reality
of truth
that finds away
to bite one in the ass
I want to believe
in something more
in what I see
within this world's greed
so much suffering
in today's blood and guts
spilled out needlessly
here I am
holding out my hand
reach out and make me see

looking up at the grey skies
within a febuary afternoon
cold and rainy
typical for east texas weather
and yet
the silence in this tiny town
is somehow deafening
why?
that sense of wanting to simply
be some place else
boredom
is not for everyone
and yet here it screams
let me put it this way
not everyone enjoys
gossip
that prevails here
just because it can

hello
it seems that we've missed each other
even though we didn't intend to
we've spent so much time
somehow pleasing each other
and yet we've both forgotten an essential point
to simply accept each other
and show love

is it that hard?

to forget the prom and prance
that the world expects
and get straight to the point

yes that comfort of love

life as it is
is too complicated
mostly from our own doing

yet it doesn't have to be

those that are misunderstood
seem to never have been listened to
those that do listen
listen only within the pretense
if they did listen
they might learn something
rather than
thinking that they know everything
and yet
they never do
what a conundrum

funny
how time sometimes
makes memories somehow
fuzzy
we get twisted within our own reflections and perspectives
where in reality
sometimes it's far from the truth
and yet
we all have our own truth

midday sighs
that will takes you to places
where you've never stepped
and yet
even if you've traveled there
they have their pitfalls
that one falls into
so you have to be cautious
with eyes wide open
when you do

why am I so bent
in my own perspective?

experience has taught me
in my own days of travel

this world is not always kind
even though it should be

these days with man's progress
specifically with today's politics
we have to save today's paradise
to only build a parking lot
really?
does that make sense?
no I think not
but then when will we realize
that we can not eat, drink or breath money?
if we keep looking down that road
we'll be looking at our own extinction

thresholds
of those dreams
lingering in the past
mysteries
that somehow are never solved
yet...
something is somehow
echoed
within unanswered reflections
broken silent murmurs
that are forgotten
within those currents
images haunted
with regret
where silence
overwhelms
and somehow
those answers are never found

within those trails that I've followed
arises a cave
whether explored or not
I know not
yet it is an interesting find
I climb to find a ledge
that overlooks the valley
where an eagle soars
down below
the Dolores River flows
against the San Juan's
which eventually arrives
into MacPhee lake
where the Anasazi
still whisper
if one listens to the ancient ones