Satisfied

Passing an old leaf

beside the tired amber stream,

she called out to me

she called me by name.

Daniel, she said, formally,

Where are you going?

I was stupefied

I rarely talk to the leaves

and, well, that's my fault

Downstream, I reckon

lest I decide otherwise...

My mind could be changed.

The leaf said no more...

I think she was satisfied

and I'll try to be

A Song of Water and of History

Studying history begins - 

for me, today -

with a long look at

the water running

in no particular hurry

in the stream next to me.

It is, I realize,

the same water my grandmother drank

and boiled her snap beans in

It is the same water we crossed to escape torture

and the same water they drowned us in

before we escaped.

It is the Water that gathered all in one place

and separated the Dry Land from the Dry Land

It is the Water over which the Spirit hovered

and within which life began.

And so, I went down to the river to pray.

Down by the riverside.

Where we laid down our sword and shield

where we hung our harps and wept

bleeding history from our face

for the captors demanded we sing a song

of Zion

of Home

of Sanctuary

and there was

no

Sanctuary.

And so, studying history,

I remembered and recalled and imagined

and I built an ark

a boat bound for the promised land

over Jordan's stormy banks

beyond the muddy waters of the Ohio

across the Rio Grande

and like the stream beside me

I sang a song

a song

of Water

and of History

and of that first pair of centipedes that

crawled out of the water

and made a home for the rest of us

and waited for Paradise.

The Stream Called

The stream called slowly

and so convincing was she,

I nearly vanished

swept neatly away

as if I were a mem'ry

from a made up story

I am disappeared

Recent snippets...

A lonesome heron
wading in a lake of gold
a peaceful sunset

He awoke in a wildern wood

cool in the morning air

and wandered his way to warmth

and water

and reaching down into the stream

he touched the stars in the sky

There was more beneath
that Strawberry Moon
than mortal eyes could see
A hope
a dance
a dare
a pow'r
a rollicking jamboree

When I Got Small

When I got small
I traveled to a tiny world
and was lost and unafraid.

And, when I got as small
as a raindrop on a blade of grass
I inhabited that world.

And, when I inhabited that world -
that small, fragile, pristine wilderness -
ha! I was made whole.

So, lay down in the dew
and, from the ground looking up,
see the world, anew.

The Ruins of a House

I found the ruins of a house which

had been swallowed by the woods

where only faith remained
and maybe, not even that.

This old home was tattered and torn

worn-out and holy and whispers of old hymns
could almost be heard

Death, 
o Death...
where was that song sung?

And while I sat

embracing the dark and

listening for unheard melodies,

the night poured out and grew full

upon the forest 
and the ruins

and me

Like a Whale, Breaching

When I see the sun

and feel her warm embrace

I am always grateful

But when the days have been cool

and the winter, long and gray,

on those days when the sun

breaks through and embraces me warmly,

On those days,

I dance like a whale breaching,

for joy like no other joy.