Category Archives: Other

In the end

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Oh sacred, final morning still,
Your frosted breath has chilled the air.
The hints of light above the hill
Evoke this humble, solemn prayer:
Enchant our hearts with unhurried pace,
Impede the rise of morning’s glow;
In mercy, allow a moment’s grace,
And pass the hours of this day slow.
Create a pause for whispers soft,
For those who need a last embrace,
For those who send their sighs aloft,
For those who love this weary face.
Oh sacred, final morning calm,
Delay the truth we know must come
Provide a modest healing balm,
For their sakes—slow, ‘til the day is done.

Bitter harvest

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Too late a spring delayed the corn

that grows in summer’s heat;

too soon a frost has killed the crops

before they’re ripe with meat.

Too late a rain has bogged us down

in sinking, flooded fields;

too soon a gleaning of flesh too moist

has crushed the fragile yield.

Too wet to store, too much to dry

and all the work’s a waste:

The years of empty hope and toil

have left a bitter taste.

But changing fates is not a choice,

and there is no place to roam:

I’ll sow again, I’ll reap again,

because this is our home.

The pond

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The pond is open now.  The cold

of winter’s grip no longer holds

the water’s gently pulsing scroll.

Surprised, I watch the spring unfold.

Surprised, because I feared the toll

of losing you would break the whole

and leave me lost in endless past,

beyond the touch that might console.

But now the darker months have passed

And spring’s return to life is fast –

My walking’s gained a stronger pace –

As if from death you’ve come at last.

The pond is now a sacred place

Where on the waves I find your face.

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For my mother

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In spring, the wind blew over you so fresh,

so full of hope, it seemed to be the breath

of dawn itself.  In summer, warmer winds

of sun and rain aroused the sleeping life

you knew was yours to give.  And in the fall,

the wind brings you the fragrance, sweet and strong,

of the fruits so gently nurtured by your hands.

Before the winter nights approach, and you

fend off the cold and cutting snows with coals

that glow in memory of fires past, lift

your face into the wind and feel the spring

again.  And if it may, allow the breeze

to speak my heart in whispers soft and brush

your cheek with my most tender, filial kiss.