Lotus

Her hand passes over the flowers on the table;
picking one from the bunch
and diving her nose into the petals,
breathes in deep
the scent of compassion.

Musician

The couple at the small table by the window
Laugh loudly, and ignore the soft melodic tune
That plays only for them. The musician too
Ignoring; his instrument laughing more than
The bottles of wine at the table for two.

Saria, My Love!

Saria.
Smile my love,
today is a day to celebrate!
(wipe your tears) and forget…
Misery has too long a memory!
The parade has finished its procession,
Dew-drop footprints in the percussion
and droning voices leading the music!
A man stands by, watching
you, watching me, watching you.
His face shaded by the old and twisted
Cemetery Tree, and old memory—
Nicolas cries out to the gray sky,
Seeking comfort and glancing about
for an exaggerated display.
My Love!
(wipe your tears) and forget…
Your eyes encourage insincerity!
The young man will wait for you;
by the tree he waits, emotionless except
for a would-be glimmer in the sun.
But in the shade he waits for you,
and his watery eyes!
More admirable I think is he than you;
For what is emotion aloud but proud
and poorly written poetry?
His silent contemplation of me
and you, and him, and I,
I travel ahead, as always.
So if you must watch them bury,
Be one under the Cemetery Tree
(wipe your tears) and forget me!

Nest

It’s a lonely world
Having loved and lost,
But life is more than living and dying,
Knowing the truth and still lying.

After tickled toes curled,
After hidden fingers crossed,
After spending so much time together,
And knowing the laugh before you met her--

There sits a bird, a baby fell out of the nest,
On ground outside in quiet, unmoving rest?
I peer through the window and spy
Unprotected innocence about to die.

(between the vines a slow knell rung)
It crept behind with whispering tongue,
But I’ll lose sight if I go to save us!
So instead I watch from here and helpless

When silent song begins the morning
And wisps of smoke, the early warning,
Unfortunate babe shares mothers fate--
Gives a short cry before laying sedate.

Then appears the hawk that waited,
Oh! Then helpless babe regurgitated
And venomous one in futile fight
Is carried away in talons tight.

Consider before, what comes after
Long nights of love and laughter;
While secrets revealed to each other
Lie in the deceptive arms of another--

Out of the nest a robin chick fell,
Into the jaws of a receiving hell,
Leaving blood stained feathers cherry red--
And the ants cleaned up after the dead.

Beyond the Front Gate

Beyond the front gate lies the world, a world of ups and downs
Miles of empty roads and overgrown fields that inspire gentle music
Winds rushing inland from the coast before they scale the mountains
And a home that gives shelter from the occasional storms
But behind grows thorns, and trees all twisted ‘round the chimney
Sucking the smoke from the always burning, always Rotten
And the sofa smells of nightmare sweat…
But beyond the front gate lies responsibility—
An unfortunate Obligation

The River

in some places it slows
and sometimes shallows
but always before it reaches the lake
the rapids will show significant wake

over rocks and difficult lots
(more to live than deeper spots
where sitting still takes longer)
where faster currents feel stronger

one way winding, always running past
the roots on the banks that pass so fast
and all it flows over will decay
and eventually waste the time away