There In The Deep Wood

There in the deep wood I would watch,

the lights on the house in the distance burn,

the figures inside I knew like my own,

in the damp soil, I would wait in the wood.

wondering if they would ever venture out,

would they wonder where I might next shout.

There in the deep wood I would watch.

 

There in the deep wood I would watch,

the cars travel by all strangers in the hour,

their lives meant for homes beyond my eye,

I would ask about their wonders and wanders

though I would never hear, just keep an eye

on their lives in the brief moments, passers by.

There in the deep wood I would watch.

 

There in the deep wood I would watch,

the stars illuminate a night sky in fall,

I might wonder about the earth in universe

watching all the patterns of the Milky Way,

there were so many, so brilliant their lives

though some I had known, others would fade.

There in the deep wood I would watch.

 

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Different Moments

Recently, there were two,

lives we might call the same,

yet probably, more obviously,

vastly different lives,

worlds apart,

yet their outcomes,

well, we can probably imagine,

the same.

 

The meaning of which,

hard to explain,

yet, we want to know,

we ask the questions,

sitting together alone in our lives,

wondering just why,

when is this the time, when others

might still wander aimless

wondering only

about their next hour,

perhaps tomorrow,

even possibly a year ahead,

yet, these two …

 

Oh, to walk inside the mind of the dead,

to understand the next level,

be able to comprehend,

not likely to mend,

accept the truth yet I would

recommend,

the answer might be less

an epiphany,

more a sad reality,

but the question remains,

we all wonder about it together,

we wander the same streams,

the winding current of our lives.

 

The one, a musician,

his time came when the pain,

over came his emotions,

and later his family in the grieving period,

had to speak to the response

of his audience,

you and me,

the ones that miss him less then

they might ever possibly comprehend.

 

Yet the same,

the reality of the game,

out of our hands,

we just show up to

exclaim.

 

The other the choice is their own,

forget the others nearby,

find the solution today,

yet, that is the confusion,

we all would like to know,

now,

just why,

what fortune brought upon such pain,

and how can we all possibly

living,

not imagine its misfortune,

his misguided

solution.

 

We all do seem to have or hold or imagine,

these our different moments,

yet for me, they sometimes seem the very same.

Just Taking a Walk in the Neighbrohood

I was listening to a some Tom Waits the other day,

puts me in a certain frame of mind,

if you know, you know what I mean,

you know what I want to say,

so I just listen to the blues and try to find my way.

 

I was thinking just the other day, about a neighbor,

someone I know, they know me,

we all seem to know each other,

especially when we do have that chance,

the rare opportunity to say hello, a courtesy.

 

See it is not as much about the neighbor as it is,

each other, all of us, walking around

today, tomorrow, any other day,

it’s about the wonder of our lives,

whose do we touch, and will they every touch ours.

 

I’m sitting in a coffee shop, still listening to the blues,

Tom Waits kind of sets the tone,

for your day, for some of you the week,

like sitting in an old rusty bar,

and he steps out of the blind with a guitar.

 

We all do walk the same neighborhood, together,

oh we carry our crosses, for some it is

that famous albatross from an old piece of

literature,

I believe it was Coleridge, one of the dead guys.

 

Point is the music continues, the riffs, the melodies,

the lyrics that seem to so mellow, haunt our lives,

so we can all believe in it together,

we do love to feel, to believe, to wonder, to wish,

perhaps walk the same paths we all would wish to choose.

Traveling Mountains To Seek Valleys

It is not the end result we seem to favor,

while at the crest, noting the cool waters

floating downward toward a mecca

of personality, a vision of delight,

a land where each of our misgivings

might bathe themselves a cleanse.

 

It is these mountains I somehow travel,

a burden is a liking to hardship

where a journey

becomes the landing point,

that place where desire meets obligation.

We then wade in the refreshing waters,

gathered by the arches, the crevice

releases our lives toward a settling ground.

 

Oh to know the fascination that becomes

that epiphany, a cathartic finish, or an ongoing

realization of the constant cycle of humanity,

drawn by exercise,

forbidden the peril of temptation,

and yet we would continue the walk,

for it is in the actual stride of a want,

we do somehow then discover safe need.

The Last Time I Checked

There was purpose in my day,

a willingness to share,

yet the constructs of a certain way,

would often interfere,

well, just my luck.

 

I often walk away this way,

the drive home,

a long enduring road,

looking around to see,

if anyone else might be my way.

 

I lack the fortitude

one might easily say

to perhaps whether the storm

may be the cause of me,

or certainly the human way.

 

There always is that possibility

of just getting past all of the

hypocrisy, the second guessing,

the idiocy inherent

with wondering just where we are.

 

I walked inside a world

why, just the other day,

where a little girl would cry,

her story breaking the hearts

of everyone inside her day.

 

And then, I wondered again,

while walking away,

is it just me,

or is life meant to be compelling,

in whatever manner He choose.

While Winter Whisper

Oh to play with the notion of thought,

to understand the reasoning behind

purpose, attitude, maybe the inspiration,

we all do seek when lost in the shuffling

nature of the season.

 

Oh, when winter will remark upon

a simple morning frost, to make allowance

for concept, to create, maybe instinctive,

our bodies, our selves, intermingle

with the true meaning of life,

when swept inside the tenets of an arctic

breeze, chilling and responsible, ease.

 

Once, while a child, ‘I watched in solemnity,’

his body laid into the cold, dark earth,

forever to be walked upon, glanced nearby,

thought of in the chilly absence of life.

We all stepped tenderly away, him alone,

the music did continue to play,

but I, the child, I never really understood.

 

Walk with me, she said that early evening,

her smile frozen in the iciclic nature of time,

I wondered if when we ever did reach

a destiny, if then, perhaps would be a time,

we might center ourselves and then ask when.

But the winds were fierce, the bridge far too close,

the edge always asking for me, screaming really,

our separate paths become the night pattern.

 

Oh to hear the sounds, the visions do emanate,

for the will of our lives, the anguish we debate.

If I Might Know Passion

A few years ago,

well, readily

while listening to something.

perhaps the spirited and melodic

voice of a Garfunkel phrase,

my sister,

she told me about the word passion.

 

I was all of fourteen years old,

hormones raging,

so the thought of a sexual connotation,

freaked me out,

sister speaks of a word,

two of us in tight corners,

Kharmann Ghia traveling down the road,

then she said,

’if you don’t have passion,

you haven’t anything to believe in.’

 

She followed by assuring me,

it meant more than what my body was telling me,

as we rounded the corner

looking over the city,

I suddenly felt comfort,

in knowing my sister,

could allow me to understand

there’s a world out there

just waiting,

always wondering

forever holding keys

to my happiness.

 

On recognizing passion,

I will forever recall the words

my sister shared with me,

that frightening autumn morning,

and today,

I can be self-assured,

I’m still looking,

still wondering,

always hoping,

the artistry,

the human condition,

allows me to lead,

a good life,

one that satisfies a need

to show purpose,

to wander free,

to live and breathe,

by intuition.

 

If I might know passion,

it may forever give me

the opportunity,

to breathe free.