What is He?

Twinkle, twinkle

In the eye

Revelation of a child’s sigh

Everywhere and all around

Nowhere, nothing, never was

This being of infection

Diseased nation of minds

Infecting and polluting

It is as much to kill as die

The beyond, always something lies

Beyond, and that is the reach

And nothing, they say

Has cured everything

If no one dies and no one thinks

It must be gone, it must be gone

But everywhere the dead and the dying

This being, non-complacent

To met out life, but death—

Child, what is God?

In your eyes and in your smile

A touch, held without duress,

Sweet child, that is all

The God I’ll ever need.

Waiting

I’m waiting on a light

That may never arrive;

I’m grabbing at the stars

And catching only dust.

Every moment builds into

Another moment lost

And still I wait,

Humming in the night,

As though the world will shine on me

In my ceaseless indolence.

Dreams unravel

It is reality waiting

Not this fiction I have woven

Into this false world.

Summer Snow

Yep, that's me!

Well I have returned at last from my trip to Colorado. Suffice to say, it was a beautiful trip, every minute of it. I have always felt a calling to the mountains, and I personally feel my brother is a lucky man to live amongst them. Wonderful places–breathtaking scenery, bizarre weather, and the perfect spots for exercise and the embrace of creativity. I now have more than 300 pictures added to my library, some of which you will probably see attached to some of my work in the days to come.

I saw a number of places while I was in-state. From bustling downtown Denver, to the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, Red Rocks, Rocky Mountain National Park, and the city of Boulder (about as artsy a town as one might find), among others. Between the sight-seeing and the time spent catching up with family, however, I am proud to say I also accomplished a great deal of work. Both there and on the flight, both in terms of poetry and my novel, I made great headway, and I will be posting the results of the weeks to come.

To start us out, I have a poem inspired by a climb to the heights of the Rocky Mountains where, despite broiling 80 degree temperatures below, a beautiful field of snow awaited, and on the peaks for miles around. A bit breezy, by the way, and I had the brilliant idea of hiking in shorts and a t-shirt. Terrible fun, but a wee bit chilly.

So to begin:

14,000 Feet Above the World

Snowball fights in shorts;

The sun beats down

Atop the world.

Slipping along the rocks

I stumble out to see the world,

And I am Freedom,

Dangling over Nothing

In the summer heat.