What is this thing life?
Even stuck still in amber
the passage of time remains.
What use is living?
Even the largest river
remembers the breeze touching.
What is this thing life?
Keeping track of each minute
wastes yet another minute.
30 MAR 2017
Leave a CommentThe scrabble of claws
across the linoleum:
waking with the dogs.
At the first hint of morning,
they are ready to go.
Forget your sleeping.
The moment your body stirs,
their insistence starts.
Outside, outside! they clamor,
until you do their bidding.
Resistance is futile:
bedcovers pulled from your eyes,
the morning sun blinds.
You need no alarm clock’s ring
once these furry kids awake.
02 FEB 2017
Leave a CommentYou could change the world
if just given half a chance;
why are you waiting?
It really doesn’t matter
once the moment’s gone away.
You could move mountains
if just sincerely inspired;
what more do you need?
It doesn’t really mean much
to speak loudly but not act.
You could light the way
if these clouds would only clear;
how is that helpful?
When the darkness has dissolved,
no one needs a raging fire.
You could change the world
in an instant, with a word;
why not start speaking?
You might as well say nothing
if no one will ever hear.
11 APR 2013
Leave a CommentA new day is born:
look, how the world starts again;
its still form awakes
from an evening’s slumber
and shakes the sleep from its eyes.
In the quiet hours
before its hum becomes roar,
the whole of life breathes:
a low, gentle rush of air
that fills creation anew.
28 APR 2011
Leave a CommentThe tap left running,
wasting water and money;
all call it evil.
they watch it dripping,
blame who turned it, and cry
“How wrong! How shameful!”
No one moves to change
the sad scene; their sole action
is indignation.
Yet when someone tries
to turn the spigot’s flow off,
they are reviled, too.
Is it the action,
or our own nothing done
that is upsetting?
So you can describe
how the world has become mad,
and with pride, complain.
Just being righteous
without fixing what is wrong
compounds the problem.
What glory is there
in being right about things
that make life ugly?
There is no changing
without risking ridicule.
You must at least try.
05 AUG 2004
Leave a CommentInside the small box
that is our experience
there is nothing new:
the folded edges
let in small amounts of light
to read old news by.
But the lid is loose —
a gentle push opens it;
look, there is a sky!
If you throw your weight
against the side, you can tilt
the whole world open.
Just another box
that may look like open space
but has edges, too.
Some spend their lifetimes
thinking the box protects them;
they worship cardboard.
What lingers outside
is violent, wild and risky:
it is fully alive.
Without much warning
it may devour your small box;
why die that slowly?
Life is not easy;
anyone who denies this
is selling something.
Look! Your box and mine
share a common boundary.
Let’s leave together.
22 JUN 2004
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