Always Practical

Was it always this simple

The practical practice

Of knowing one another

So the strengths and weakness

Might somehow balance

 

Were we that naïve in beginnings

A trip to Europe

See the world and imagine life

From a perspective beyond

The normalcy we are taught to hold.

 

I remember the time I came

Down early, the hostel,

One of the last really crowded ones,

I saw him,

Sitting across from you with interest.

 

I’d noticed that look before

A short smile

Guarded yet with an innocence that

Suggested,

Yes this is the way it can be.

 

I wonder about practicality,

Sitting in the sunroom,

A cigarette burns to imagine

Statues as a sort of hip décor,

When inside a human being despaired.

 

I tried to tell you that quiet morning,

When reddened your eyes

Wouldn’t change their hue

We no longer, well I didn’t

We hadn’t been whom we knew.

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The Sitting Hours

I always looked forward to the late hours,

the night flying by with dialogue and absurdities,

everything we could say we believed, and more importantly,

we loved,

We did delight in knowing we could look in each other’s eyes,

well into the twilight,

all of us, whoever might have chosen the time,

or simply allowed ourselves to be drawn in,

that was the key,

we knew always we wanted to be there.

 

These are the holidays we would request

each other’s company,

my sister, brothers, and mom,

our sister’s, children and the occasion of relatives …

so current on everything we knew.

to be important in everyone’s lives.

With dad in the background, an occasional chuckle,

he’d pass out the a beverage with endearing blue eyes,

we all heard his screams inside,

the delight of our lives, he is a beautiful man.

 

We were, are, can be the beautiful people,

the family that smiles, tells jokes, lives lives with uncanny candor.

These are the nights when time would value,

only the shared nostalgia of wanting the laughs

in the history of our lives.

These are the holidays when love does always,

compete well with the nature of our own,

sweet recall, when the essence of everything we believed,

in the realm of the human condition,

could suddenly find the energy

to contribute the next line,

so the stories never found a way to end …

Summer Rains

 

I woke in sweet pause to the summer rains

Glance toward the sky in misty eyed ponder

While worlds begin day in routine refrains

We might all know beauty is our wonder.

 

In our lives where cause might allow reveal

Our choice to become the pureness we wish

Always measured in will of knowing real

Is Grace belongs in hearts not outlandish

 

Water in sweet embrace cleanse my windows

I might breathe the world its sheltered release

Much like my neighbor whose ideal true grows

We can quest lives together to find peace.

 

In quiet mystique regard truth our gain

Solace sing sweet warmth in Her summer rain.

 

*photo credit: Mark Demsteader – found on Pinterest

 

 

 

 

Knocking On Doors

I choose to navigate the open walkways,

a common thread

similarities in typical days

places I dread.

I wonder sometimes about certain choice

if we might know

just why it is we find the time to rejoice,

however swift hearts grow.

When a decision in retrospect is made

we sometime slow realize

that memory that conscience forbade,

will leave our wonder wise.

When a lift in melody caught sweet attention

the very source of gallantry

spoke aloud with strong desire to love, mention

in all its chivalry.

Welcome the moon in familiar tonight’s pattern

while the sky awaits morning light

a beautiful life we swift acknowledge in turn

when covering shadows in the night.

When only the naked mind is given allowance

In simple virtue our humanity’s bliss is chance.

I Came Back Home …

To catch a dream …

I suppose visits are marginal,

memories, reflection,

hold the hope of lives lost or known

– misunderstood misfortunes –

seem to carry their own weight,

have a bearing

who we are, were then, now

what we might have become,

or some hope to think we have realized that fortune of peace.

~

I listen with quiet mockery to

Dan Fogelberg,

clearly steer me away

from a convenience store,

yet the notion plays my head.

I wonder sometimes why it is when we wish

for that we cannot have,

is there a solution, or is that time forsaken

reality of acceptance.

I would speak to overthrow compromise,

except to suggest we are all human – frailty …

such exposure of will.

~

To tell you the truth,

I haven’t any answer, anymore than I might have

thirty years ago – I only do know today,

I’m as human as I was then,

only how I wish I might have accepted that reality

when all I would ever do is cry to silly

melodramatic lyrics that seemed to

haunt my mind with a vivid persona,

were you ever so aware how many songs we all cried over,

they make better sense today,

back then I suppose they were just,

catchy.

By Gone Days

If I were able to remember, I might rather not

continue to glorify living by a rope’s single knot.

~

For every afternoon I soak in a wistful memory,

I’ll easily pass on the fear of societal misery

~

While around me the world continues to age

I wonder what’s it is like to finally be that sage.

~

Because last time I thought about prior years

there came to mind an epiphany of fears

~

today, I look behind my walls to understand time

while the world moves forward, I live a life sublime.

~

I wish a memory might energize your state of mind

in the manner we used to think about, how we remind

~

ourselves that each living hour, each moment, second

chance we choose to pursue, becomes an amend

~

again, a reminder of our lives in the days before

suggest we give solace to knowing there is more.

Quiet Intersections

When tears would will

in sight were our lives

I watched you walk, still

forty years later survives.

~

Just the trace of boots

stepping across pavement

no eyes yet, only the roots

of then just as love meant

~

Today our lives are romantic

we choose to recall, spend

moments imagining, a tantric

soliloquy, dance, we suspend

~

In reality only for this release

will ourselves, find our peace.