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


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



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,


just why,

what fortune brought upon such pain,

and how can we all possibly


not imagine its misfortune,

his misguided



We all do seem to have or hold or imagine,

these our different moments,

yet for me, they sometimes seem the very same.


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.

When My Father Cried

It was the changing season,

a tragedy,

we were all crying,

dumbfounded and surreal

the moments ahead


He was heart-broken

no place to stand or sit or feel,

just simple pain,

always and forever,

misty eyed and helpless

to the reality of the human condition.

He’d been tested,

he’d been traumatized,


ships passing in the night,

his words to soothe,

his reaction lost in agony.


How could the world ever be normal again,

when his son had left to travel,

and nearby,

a consoling brother,

a relative of sorts in marriage,

in a consoling gesture,

suggested a distraction.


How might he react any other way,

then lose faith in humankind,

when the soul of his world,

remained lost in the mechanics.

There is heartbreak to be noted,

when one’s dream

suddenly fades

while all of those around

have no idea the strain.

When the World Stops and Everyone Continues to Walk

We have these,

call them,

whatever you might preference at the moment.

An epiphany, a catharsis,

a smack in the face in expression,

the reality of our lives.


Just when the seasons began to express

their natural beauty,

the leaves that decay to a certain brilliance,

representing death and love

all the same,

Crisp autumn breeze.


Walk outside on familiar soil,

feel the fragrance of winter’s

slow methodical drift in heavy horizon.

We know the air is changing,

Sense a sort of reminder,

What it is we desire we internalize.


The other morning, while sunlight spoke

aloud the wonder of Nature,

he too would smile and laugh and then


for life begins a journey, meant to keep stride,

whether ready to climb aboard –


offer a choice, it is not always the case.


We decide, who decides, when did everyone

choose sides,

and were we even a consideration,

beyond the normalcy of our lives.

Did anyone even think to imagine,

inspiration is destiny within a moral compass.


So what if you don’t know your legacy,

instead rest upon a certain faith,

the sort that maintains a beautiful smile,

an energy,

we all thrive upon when entering the room.

For it is true you can save the world.


Because it is a sojourn we all must respect,

and the climate around us all,

needs the accentuate ritual of love,

Because without that handshake,

a quick smile, a silly joke,

we are all still floating an aimless travel.


It’s a short trip this trek toward mortality,

Be thankful you give us smile.

While we wait,

In earnest,

we seek a natural horizon,

Gives credence to the strength of His beauty.

Recognizing Who We Are Today! (a draft)

We experienced a tragedy in (our community) last week. We lost a young man as the result of a traffic accident. He touched many hearts. The city, the district, the students were all impacted by the loss of (student), a student known by many for his affectionate and charming persona, an infectious personality. I listened to a couple of students the night of the tragedy talk about the immediacy, how quickly a life is taken, that we cannot quite comprehend the confusion such a loss leaves us when just hours before they were standing right next to the young man, full of life. We are all surely saddened by tragedy, yet, we are also enlightened by the way the students rallied around the celebration of this young man’s short life. In an intrigue, this experience speaks to an aspect of the beauty of our lives in (our community) as we recognize the diverse nature of our community.

On Friday, as the news flooded social media the night before, the students all wore white to honor the young man. I was amazed to look around the school and see nearly 90% of the student body dressed in white. The sight provided a welcome contrast to the negative image our district has attained in recent months. Here’s why.

What happened inside our school buildings on Friday mattered to the students, they were the ones being represented and cared for, and they responded with more unity than I have seen in my career as a teacher. I watched a school that put aside curriculum for the day, and reasoned with the reality of the human condition in every step of the way. In mid-day, there was a service, known as a ‘smudge’ provided by the young man’s family – his Native American heritage celebrated – and in attendance easily hundreds of students witnessed a cultural phenomena with open arms and respectful intrigue.

I said to a friend of mine late Thursday night, that (young man’s) loss would be a unifying force for allowing our students to recognize life as a whole rather than an individual need for survival. I watched kids from every walk of life hug one other, speak kindly to each other, and embrace grieving in a thoughtful and beautiful manner. (young man’s) death was responsible for that coming together of a school district.

Even more intriguing, I attended a football game that night, a ‘Friday night lights’ experience during which both the visitors and the home team wore white to symbolize (our community) tragic loss. It was remarkable to watch the unification of two school’s students who all recognized together the beauty of life and the tragedy of loss. But together they created and expressed a natural silver lining. Ironically, several schools around the region also showed unity and compassion by wearing white in a symbolic gesture of support. My boss said to me today, ‘It’s a small world’ when I shared my delight in the actions of many.

This weekend we celebrate the loss of a beautiful young man, one that I did not know personally, but understood to have touched the lives of many, including many students in the drama program, for which I am an advisor. The lesson learned from this weekend’s start of the healing process, is that we as a district do embrace the beauty of a unique population of student body that do and can believe in one another if given the proper resources. We as a community need to do our part in assuring our students that we can go forward together.

I think (young man) is imagining how special our world is given his new perspective, and his engaging smile is suggestive of our need to recognize his gift and not forget the message his role in the circle of life provides us all.

*names withheld to respect the student and family.

The White Out

In a sudden state of conclusion,

a confusion,

an interruption of our


we were in a stirring rendition,

of love, of fun, of childhood,

when simply in the notice of our soul catcher,

we were told it is time to go home.


Now in the quiet of the day,

when laying back in my bedroom,

the familiar walls, the sounds,

static realities of my existence …

Now I can stand alone,

notice hanging on a wall nearby,

a dreamcatcher follows my eyes,

I suddenly do understand why.


A multitude of personality

spoke the knowledge of a few,

only to find some solace,

in the calm,

the storm that surged last night,

lays down a peaceful blanket,

a security to know we are never alone,

and instead just part of the circle,

that place where our lives,

measured amongst their lives,

and the lives of anyone whom nearby,

can hear my shout, her tear, his solemn plea,

we are all inside this dream catcher.


In matters of the soul,

we can cleanse our hearts in the grief

of our confusion,

in a thankful paradigm,

we might suggest,

perhaps another day,

because tonight everything is so fresh –

there is an ultimatum

in the sweet peace of love.


There is a cathartic happening today,

meant to suggest love,

in the confusion of wondering why,

it is his soul chosen today.

For all of our heartfelt passion,

for life and the responsive nature

of letting our lives speak loud,

for the loss of a mechanical truth,

suddenly surreal in His sensual sky,

we do know love today,

and the Creator has sung song today,

in the eyes of this Elder is the compassionate way,

we know love, we know love, is this day.

Our Violent Humanity


Samuel Corum/Anadolu Agency via Getty Images


It would seem we haven’t had enough,

Watching our neighbors fall to the sword,

The world around us eschewing the evil

Of a nation lost in a swirl of self-pity.

No one to blame but ourselves,

Yet that never comes into play,

We are soon to discover some outlet,

Easy to say we may fall personal prey.

In looking at the news today, I saw

Real lives being struck down, a society

Lost in its own pitfalls of insecurity,

All of them wondering, remaining alone.

When we might raise a flag to equality,

Shudder the notion that fire might stay,

The real burden of proof is our own lives,

Lost in the façade of believing in truth.

There is a Christian belief in humanity

Spouted from every possible pulpit,

Always with the best intentions, they say

The world will be better without evil.

Yet is it some times the very cross carrying,

Honorable, parishioner borne out of fear,

Might wield the weaponry of utter hate,

The rhetoric of painful prejudice begotten.

Pitfalls occur with anyone’s desire to change,

To make change, ask for change, demand change,

The local grocer suggests we use credit instead,

Yet it seems everywhere, fake news still relents.

I watched today with an ill heart the display

Of a humanity lost in the perils of bigotry,

Lost on themselves, lost on each other,

Drifting aimless in a world beyond reproach.

We might only reflect upon where we came

From in a society that once believed in love,

Today is seemingly hell bent on the otherwise,

The ability to act without a conscience so unwise.

Oh, to find love again – to breathe.