Time is Short

Globe, sapphire, and green-
hands hover, encase, flutter
like palms enclose moths.

Tremulous clutch, grip-
breath gift, connection
reclaimed from the source.

Solid to gray dust,
half-cast shadow over sun,
peace with a void.

The Poor in Spirit

A talent, I would think, would be the first thing,

Or maybe all my money, or finest diamond ring-

my loyalty, though wavering, could really do it’s part,

or try to do what’s right, with all of my heart.

Still when you call, you offer your perfect healing balm-

Require only my empty, open palm.


I offered you silk petals,
roses lovely head;
still you only frowned a little,
and saw the thorns instead.

Offered warm meal and hugs,
and listened to your day,
still you only saw the thorns
in my bouquets spray.

I walked for hours to provide,
with a body giving way,
still you only saw the thorns,
when nothing I would say.

Both people showing love,
Sacrifice, price to pay,
Look past these thorns I carry,
To the rose display.

Prosperity’s Malnourished

Suck in,
smoke or stone;
final gleanings
from field’s poisons;
green is contempt,
green is witchcraft;
Air, water,ripe
garden of self-satisfaction
the tare-heads plucked,
others, still pasture consumed,
mad herds and sturdy canes
envy has mingled with
superiority in a hybrid grape.

Why So Downcast?

Echoes from the far wall,

of damp , mossy cave-

sunshine fled hours ago,

tried to clutch a ray.

Fingers barely visible,

alone in moon’s glow-

God really did put in time

For this celestial show.

Disconsolent heart hanging,

string tied in my chest-

it’s bulk and heat,

may reach my feet,

at despondencies rest.

Though dark and shadow reign here,

and cave’s exit is far,

I know my God remembers me

because I see the stars.