a seed
blown on the wind
or carried by bird or squirrel
until deposited
in fertile soil
a spot perfectly suited
for its specific needs
pushes gently
with fragile fingers
to reach the moisture
that feeds it’s spine
to sprout tiny limbs
which slowly reach out
from the warm blanket of its birth
eternally stretching
towards the warm glow of Heaven
in such slow
graceful motion
that its progress is marked in decades
in the rings of its trunk
and its family is generations
of insect
and moss
and squirrels
and birds
that carry its seed
to other fields
to claw and scrape and sometimes
long enough to become home
to their own generations
of life
until one day
hundreds of years
and thousands
perhaps millions
of lives later
it is in the way
holding up progress
it is hacked and sawed
and uprooted
and burned for a road
or a home
or a hotel
or a parking lot
and I am reminded
that in life
there are no take backs
I can’t go back to where I began
reach out into the world
in a different direction
or replace
the paths I took
that got me here
or retrace the steps
that carried me to this point
sitting naked in a hot tub
and sipping rum
and allowing the events of my life
events that led me to a walk down this most beautiful avenue
lined with oaks
planted with purpose
full of peace
intentional peace
a grove
this family
brothers and sisters
destined to live their lives
to their very end
while I
still digging my roots deeper
my limbs higher
have every opportunity
as a gift from the Divine
to expand those roots at will
to places of my design
of Her design
I can never go back
only forward
and at any time
I too
may become
though I am still just a seed



Picture taken at Avenue of the Oaks.



just be

be yourself

Being yourself means being honest with yourself. I sometimes forget that and fall into the trap of “this is who I want to be” or “this is what I want to believe to be true”.

Those feelings are based on opportunity, desire, and a hundred other feelings that stand in opposition to truth and love and they ultimately lead to internal conflict and pain and obfuscate the Self.

I remind myself
I am also part of “the world”
that tries so hard
to make me something else
something less than myself
and release
the untruths
revealed to me
through them
by simply standing back
from what others might see
or believe to be
in order to hear my reflection say
“This is who I am”
not what I want to see
or want to be
or what others believe
but what I know to true
and though what I see
may not yet be who I am
trying so hard to become
I can see that person
looking back at me
and I say to him
“You are perfect just as you are”

Morning Glory


Drift sweetly
in your morning haze
lit with candles
from yesterdays
and colored with candied memories
of tomorrows yet to spend

Dance in the streets
with everyone you meet there
dressed in gala clothing
in a hurry where they’re going
to become what you will make them
Spring diving
or hang gliding
or skipping rope on a waterfall

Chased by a loyal brown dog
shining like a knighted rhinoceros
until tamed by your touch
and led safely to your yard
where rabbit trees
sing lullaby’s
and nesting birds
share spoken word
like beaked beatniks
while monkeys prepare
for flights to who knows where
and you
true goddess
command all
in sacred serenity

Hush now, Love
don’t you rise
there’s still so much to see
so much to do
so much to be
just close your eyes
and drift
enjoy your morning glory
while I make the morning tea
and wonder where you are


I am

I am the storm that scatters the sheep

The lightning that tears the field

The wind that screams and howls with the rage of a thousand armies

The rain that floods the home

That drowns the unprepared

That cleanses the battlefield

That nourishes the crops

That brings life

The rain that washes away the pain

I am the storm


Image: “Enlightenment” by Giorgio Vaselli

Messages from the Divine


If I listen carefully
To the stories
and questions
Of those around me
To the words of the song
Playing on the radio
Or in my head
To the consequences
Of my actions
and of those I know
Or witness strangers
as family
If I breathe deep and slow
and observe the thoughts
That play over and over
Like a familiar melody
and admit the song
Of my soul
Into my mind
I can hear the Divine
I don’t always know what She wants
or needs from me
I don’t always understand Her words
but She always speaks
and Her message
is always one of love








Lit by smiles
and sweet laughter
I hear when I close my eyes
By the soft touch
Of loving hands
That still tingle
like electric current on my skin
By kisses
That took my breath away
and left me breathless
By endless talks
Of hopes and dreams
I carry with me
My soul burns with a passion
That can not
Should not
Be extinguished
It is not what I have
That kindles the fire
I have nothing
It is the memory of those things
And the promise of their renewal
That drives me