window of time

time is a window of opportunity.

for some it is closed

yet they see through it.

for others, it is open

but they do not look out.

7/18/1993

polished stones

a polished stone describes
how some lives are:
smooth, shiny, beautiful to behold,
yet cold and hard on the inside.

by contrast, there are others
who are as wisps of smoke:
one may not grasp them
yet they rise above the polished stones.

a leaf...

a leaf,
fallen in the water,
has not the ability
to change its direction

even if it has the will.

never the less,
it reaches the end
of its journey.

2/8/1990

shifting sands

most of us stumble through life,
footstep after footstep,
with only the shifting of the sands
to keep us from realizing
we are walking in circles.

if life's mysteries were revealed to us
we might blink once in amazement,
then continue our stumbling,
footstep after footstep,
until the sands swallow us.

5/14/1991

starshine

i would note (with sadness)

that each of us has hopes

dreams

thoughts

and words

that, if shared,

would form a song

to touch the heavens.

yet the stars shine in silent darkness,

never touching or being touched.

the tendrils of their lonely lights flicker on

as though it could matter.

if the poet cries out,

alone in the night,

does he make a sound?

11/5/1994

the fading light

pink glow of sky
sun-tipped lake
waves
wind
and i 
watch the mornings turn to night
chasing clouds and fading light.

7/29/1993

the new dawn's old song

the new dawn enters my life,
its old song grinding against my wish
(becomes a prayer)
for more sleep instead.

but i cannot sleep in today - not today!
my calendar is filled with
the self-important things that fill calendars;
things that define the part of our lives
that both separate us from what we would be,
and allow us the chance
to become what we already are.

i do not welcome the new dawn
but grudgingly accept it.
its old song grinding out another day
as i wait for tomorrow.

12/12/1993

fallen

our souls fell from a very great height

and it is not until we try to rise up again

that we realize just how badly we were hurt.

The Well of Time

reaching deep into the Well of Time,
i gathered up as much
of its water as i could
and held it in the palm of my hand.

each drop that did not spill to the ground
evaporated instead and escaped with the wind.
in the blink of an eye,
an entire lifetime slipped through my fingers.

12/28/1989

candles

the tentacles of time
reach out to grab the unwary
who, seeking to outmaneuver destiny,
probe the void to learn its secrets.

but, like candles in the night,
these small lights that shine
in flickering, uncertain defiance,
never quite extinguish the darkness of tomorrow.

11/11/1974

grasping

at each moment
we hold in our hands
both future and past,
yet we can touch neither.

6/13/1991

paths

go where you will go
and see what you will see
for destiny calls
and the future must be.

don't follow the trails of others,
who may be running blind,
make your own path to walk on
and leave the rest behind.

1972

a rare friend

rare has been the day
that i have met your like,
for even the young trees turn only so green
before the reds, golds and browns
of autumn set in.
but you, my friend,
have somehow attained a deeper shade.

remain then aways as the leaf, which,
even after falling is free to travel on
with but the touch of a breeze.
for it is the bough, laden with years,
that falls, rotten, to the ground,
and the root, lacking water,
that withers and dies.

11/2/1974

memories

if Time is the river
that washes away
the dust of our dreams,

then memories are the rocks
standing resolute
amidst the torrent.

12/7/1993

Haiku Sampler

(1)

life flows from the source.

the fallen leaves whisk away,

whispering your name

4/1/1991

(2)

buds forming on twigs

gentle rains replacing snow;

beginning or end?

3/31/1991

(3)

in the early spring,

as the river was first freed,

my eyes, too, opened.

4/10/1991

the sleeping pond

as a pebble disturbs
the sleeping pond
so too an angry thought
disturbs the tranquil mind,
with waves that extend
far beyond the source
and long after the cause

4/2/1974

Hope

It's better to have hope for dreams
than dreams for hope