Better leadership they say
Is what we need
To become greater
Not just here, but everywhere
And for everything
What is leadership
Is it the noun leadership
Meaning better people to lead
Or is it the verb leadership
Meaning what actions leaders take
There’s no doubt we need
Both kinds of leadership
But for me
The starting point is self-leadership
Doing a better job leading ourselves
Every sunrise and sunset
Changes us, restores us
GIves us a hug
When we most need it
Every sunrise and sunset
Touches our deepest being
No promises
Just quiet sweeps of color we become
Everyday
A sunrise and sunset
Yet, no guarantees
Making it all even more important
No use clinging
Holding onto what we borrow
Then must give back
Like the sky each sunrise and sunset
All our sunrises and sunsets
Fleeting reminders
Live a colorful life
Bask each moment in life’s dreamy colors
“We are warmed by fire, not by the smoke of the fire. We are carried over the sea by a ship, not by the wake of a ship. So too, what we are is to be sought in the invisible depths of our own being, not in our outward reflection in our own acts. We must find our real selves not in the froth stirred up by the impact of our being upon the beings around us, but in our own soul which is the principle of all our acts.”
~Thomas Merton, Trappist Monk, 1915-1968
Miracles happen everyday
Extraordinary things–
Like the orange butterfly
That sat on the budding flower
In the front garden till I smiled
For this graceful creature
There’s no pondering the universe’s beginning or end
Only joyful being
Not unlike our own shot at bliss
Without expectation
Intensive anticipation or undue acceptance
Miracles indeed abound
Each day, in every way
Things we easily know
Things we frequently overlook
Like the gentle orange butterfly
Sitting on the pink budding flower
Just beyond…
That point of no return in our imagination
I think of the sun
Not just any
But the kind waking me
As a young boy
Rising with it
Only venturing to sleep
Long past its setting
I think of the sun
Something magical
Very much inside me
Doing nothing for Marietta sweet corn
Or the ham-like beef stake tomatoes
Sold along two-lane Route 7
Just north of New Matamoras
I think of sun, golden yellow
Kingly in posture
Rising and falling on que
Like some Viennese opera singer
Whose voice rings out
Only to crash suddenly
Leaving us waiting for more
When I think of sun
I remember best the sun
That slipped through the trees
Along the edges of Cloverfield
Where as a boy I dreamed the only dreams
Coming completely true in my life
It’s not clear
What separates us
From nature, each other
Even certain parts of ourself
We never knew existed
Until we fall flat on our face
Flatter than the horizon
On a hot July afternoon
Then we know
We are not who we think we are
And the world doesn’t exist
To serve, or even enable us
In some arcane remote way
Like how truth follows a butterfly
Or how there is no saving a balloon
From the end of a pin
Funny how such entitled thoughts
Like those featuring us
At the very center of the universe
Pop up and dominate us
Like our third grade teachers
Who taught us fresh air
Helps us avoid cold germs
Yet I wonder, even with all this
Can we ever avoid death?
“We all carry within us our places of exile, our crimes, our ravages. Our task is not to unleash them on the world; it is to transform them in ourselves and others.” ~Albert Camus
Those faces…they linger
Like ghosts in some long lost place
That only God knows
That only I wish
I could forget
They flash back
Like sun on silver
Like lost pennies found
Washed up on some beach
After finding their bottom
Only to return to where they started
Where with bent backs
They culled and hoed their rice
Working as though tomorrow
Wouldn’t come unless they gave
All they had and more
Yes more, even their lives
And in one lonely girl’s blank face
I saw all that 38 years could never forget
In her eyes there reflected
So many young men
Lost, hoping to find a moment’s peace
That would take it all back
All 18 months they barely lived
Till the day they die
See this: click on this link
So hard
the afternoon sun beat down
Forsaking all shadows
Blinding us to see
only what is illuminated
What is known
And missing what it hides
So hard I try at times
to see life as it is
All the things I deny
Life’s impermanence, unpredictability
imperfection, only partial accessibility
Even in the best of light
Granted by the penetrating noonday sun
Some say try harder
to see more, to see better
Use the light to focus your mind
Perhaps we should not try so hard
Instead open ourselves, like a blossoming flower
And stop worrying about light, what we see
Then light’s meaning changes and so do we
Stoney
The name of a man
I never knew growing up
But Uncle Hank talked about nonstop
Like some freight train
Coming and going
Without scheduled stops, and
Most importantly, without even a destination
I was curious–about Stoney, my Uncle Hank
And of course what came before all curiosity
Something deeper
Taking us to the ocean’s bottom
Something today that still keeps me up
Well past midnight
Well past all memories
I think of the Antler’s
So many years later
A bar, a place where working men hung out
And dreamed about something larger
Than the lives they lived
The woman they married
The children they fathered
Brought into the world
Like cold rain on some nondescript Sunday night
After seeing their mother
In that hideous, souring smell nursing home
That even death avoided
Till the very last moment
Stoney doesn’t matter
Not now
He’s long gone
He was just a reason
For my uncle to dream
Past the reality he lived
My uncle, childless
Wished for his own
But none came
A man who dropped dimes, and sometimes quarters
Into our sweaty palms
As we stood on the porch
And waved goodbye
Before he walked slowly up the street–
The same street we played on
The same street my uncle died on
And the same street I left
Moving on beyond the dimes and quarters
To some place else
Some place now
Where time grows short
Walking much faster than my long gone uncle
Who now plays with Stoney
In the side yard of grandma’s house
A place I desperately try to remember
There are people
Who stay up
Well past ten pm
These folks–
At least some
Don’t sleep
Until all light is gone
There are other people
Who sleep long past five am
Way beyond when the birds awaken
I don’t see any of these folks
Because I get up at five
And am well into my dreams
By ten at night
The owl was calling last night
Somebody’s name echoed through the dark still forest
I listened for awhile to hear him again
But only silence rang through my ears
When the owl called
My heart shrank with fear
Praying it was not my name
But another’s that he called
Most don’t hear the owl’s call
Until it is their time
Until it is their name
Echoing through the tall dark trees
Those who believe
Say that the owl doesn’t know
Whose name he calls
Only he who bears the name knows
There is no mistaking
When your name is called
We always hear it
Then, it is our time to go
Last evening I took a series of photos at Squires Castle, a castle-like ruin in the forest near us.
Enjoy!
Inasmuch as we’re in so far
There are…
No beginnings
No endings
No going anywhere, except
Beyond time, which
Lasts only a moment
Just as long as a breath–
Yet so powerful, ever gentle
Just as long as a heartbeat–
Surging through me, the universe
And beyond
Yes, always beyond
Why?
Because it must
Because it exists without reason
Just like you
Just like me
A tossed flat stone
Shatters the pond’s smooth surface
Ripples, extending outward
From the center to nowhere
Eventually all disappear–
The stone, ripples, all striving to rest
Stillness returns
As sunlight graces pink and white waterlilies
And the mind comes to rest
As all thoughts cease
Clouds imagined, clouds so real
Often exactly how we feel
We look about, then it rains
Find the strength, break the chains
Some days are dead before they start
No horse in front to pull our cart
Fret we do about what’s hard
Touchy, sensitive, always on guard
We have a choice, no matter what
No need to stew till we’re hot
This is Friday, not just any day
Give it a chance, that’s what I say
Life
Death
Bigger than us, perhaps
At the same time
Exactly what we are
What we face
Who we are
Struggle, we do
To live, and yes…
To die
But facing these things
We step
Into the abyss
We call home
I think of my father, mother
You think of yours
They were the intersection
From whence we came
They move on
We move on
And, we are left…
Not behind
But to ourselves, with God
To move from where we are
To where we end up
To where we end
And to a new beginning overtaking us
And there, life and death become one
Sunlight toured the garden early this morning
Igniting fire in the flowers and their leaves
I stood helpless, breathless, overcome
By the beauty only garden sunlight can create
I may never be the same
After seeing how a garden’s many possibilities
Become living, breathing realities
When sunlight awakens them from their sleep
Even the lone chipmunk
Who spends her day
Darting in and out of the garden
Stood still to receive what sunlight so freely gives
I set aside my pen and paper
Rushed into the garden to receive
The blessing of sunlight
Now my day has completely changed
Should I come one night
And you find me standing
Alongside your downy soft bed
Know I am an angel watching
Assuring only sweet dreams
Fill your head while you sleep
So when you awake with the sun in the morning
Know God is smiling down upon you
Should I come one night
And the night’s storms
Break your peaceful slumber
Know I cannot calm the storms
But I can fill your head
With a peace beyond
Where any clap of thunder
Or flash of lightning can reach
Should I come one night
And you no longer need protecting
That you alone can face your demons
I’ll know my time has come to go
That another soul haunted by the night
Needs my quiet and reassuring presence
But know my sweet
My memories will always be of you
A tree stands alone
Without notice, reaching out
Touching you, me, so much beyond
Hear its song–
Not so lonely
Watch its breath
Rooted, yet free
Stretched out–
Like the crimson horizon at sunset
A sign, perhaps–
Live each day in fullness
if you sit long enough
with an open heart
and watch the flowers in your garden
beside the forest trail, or
even by the side of the road
you’ll see how they grow
you’ll find no indecipherable code
no intractable secret to be discovered, or
even anything different
than anything else in life
that makes flowers grow
if you sit long enough
with an open heart
you’ll see your own flowering beauty–
springing from nowhere
going nowhere, like the flowers
you’ll see that the flowers
like your own true nature
are part of a stream, flowing
through you, past you, and eventually
merging with all else you’ve imagined
Nestled along the mighty Ohio
Here because of the river, and
Her swift, powerful steel gray waters
All about, lush green rolling hills
Lost in some respects, searching
For itself amidst the flow
Of the gallant river, and life
Hoping for cleansing, perhaps a release
Long coal barges slip past
Darkened shoreline warehouses, factories
Colorful Victorian houses, from another time, wave
And smile as what once was starts over
No easy answers for any city, not for Wheeling
But then, maybe we make it all too hard–
Life, death, rebirth, being
Wheeling, a new gleam in its eyes
Sometimes I have trouble
Seeing past myself
Blindsided by who I think I am
Some days oblivious
To the vast world of possibilities
Beyond me, and you
I clean my glasses twice a day
Unfortunately it’s to see what I want to see
And not beyond that
I guess I’m no different–
Than you, or anyone else
My self-image directs my eyes
There’s a solution you know
It’s not as hard as we think
Open our hearts to unknown possibilities
Accept that our version of reality
Is but one of many out there
Learn to live with uncertainty
You can see them by clicking on this link.
This is a photo set I shot in our village. The century home series is interesting because of the garden and the old white house contrasted with the lush green setting. The Jesus Christ sculpture in the cemetery is interesting because it stands out in the shadows of the afternoon sun. By the way, the motorcycle is NOT mine.
Bright sunshine bounds all about
Flowers dance, even shout
True to its name Sunday
This day, happiness comes my way
The birds were up, just before five
Not far behind, the sun arrives
Wind chimes dance, a gentle breeze
Their echo lingers in the trees
Coffee’s brewing, calling my name
In bed I lay, what a shame
This day’s a beauty
Get out of bed, it’s my duty
All the work to be done
Today’s for living, having fun
I tell myself save your guilt
Get some sun, or you’ll wilt
This sunny Sunday, the start of June
This day, this month, I attune
My soul, its garden, flowers bright
This day I’ll live without a fight
Overcast spring day
Clouds overhead
Blocking the sun
No telling how long they’ll stay
Clouds hovering inside
Those we wish to hide
Hoping for a breeze
To blow them all away
Suddenly a gust of wind
No budging the clouds
Rain soon on its way
Clouds and tears today
No sadness
Just a longing
Short passing feeling
Gray Friday, what can I say
not outside you
separate from you
abstract
without shape
black and white
one thing
always the same
none of these things
instead
the world is
exactly you
in all your completeness, and incompleteness
where any breath takes you
a morphing rainbow
crowning life’s incredible waterfall
where you drink everyday
early morning hour
sittin’ all alone
with my dreams
watchin’, waitin’, hopin’
my life will suddenly change
too early for first sunlight
to brighten up my day
too late for early evening rain
to wash away all my sorrows
sittin’, waitin’, hopin’ my life will suddenly change
too young to know the difference
between walkin’ and ridin’ on the train
either way, life ain’t goin’ my way
burnin’ midnight oil
dreamin’ just once my life will change
hours, days, years
been a wastin’
sittin’ all alone
these early morning hours
hopin’ my life will suddenly change
Note: I wrote this poem between my junior
and senior years in high school. That would be 1968.
If your counting, that would be 40 years ago!
This is another song lyrics poem.
Give it a look. Enjoy the Memorial Day weekend.
sunny may morning
you can hear the flowers growing
no pretense
misunderstanding
all lies cease
only the moment lingers
in each heartbeat
life has a way of happening
not because we expect it, but
because that’s what it does
that’s why we’re here–
to witness
experience
give thanks
there lingers
in the heart
first love
rarely romantic
most often universal
we never forget
what brought us here
keeps us here
and eventually
also takes us away
How does one say I love you?
Your eyes stare holes into my soul
The type never can be filled
Oceans of passion all about me, but
These openings will always remain
One is never the same
Once looked at that way
The way you first looked at me
Always something will be missing
Something only you bring me
The bob of your ponytail
Your sweet shy smile
How you held yourself
Now how you hold onto me
Stirrings from when we first met
You knew yourself, still do
Not necessarily with words, but
Always in how you look, those eyes
Searching, and bringing you into focus
Still, a mystery is about you
Have I said it…that I love you?
Tonight let’s sit together
In a dark corner of the bar
Sip martinis, play footsie
And let our hearts pound against each other
there is a region–
a place, you tend to live
dwell daily
where you find yourself
when the phone rings unexpectedly
even between heartbeats
you live there
because that’s all you know
that’s all you are
so long as you’re there
you don’t have to find your place
it finds you
when you least suspect it
when you don’t try
it knows you better than you know yourself
you slip into it
like a foot into a shoe
like a restless thought
passing through your mind
like a camera lens capturing a picture
you assume it’s reality–
this place where you live
it assumes nothing
because it knows you
better than you know yourself
Sweet wisteria
To thee, always
I shall be devoted
Tangled as we become
In life, and all imagination
To thee I pray that…
Another day comes, and
Awakens me
Sparked by: Dan Shimp and Andrew Lockhart
Do you? I do
Said so often
By two people
Joining in holy matrimony
Oneness
By their uniting
A personal union
Of two to become one
Receiving each
Into the other’s life
To cherish and protect
For richer and poorer
To share all to come
Both sunshine and rain
Marriage–
Two people, one life connecting them
I’ve seen too much
Things eyes shouldn’t see
Let alone gaze upon
Too late to erase memories
That never can be undone
No looking back
Hoping it was a mirage
An illusion
That will fade
And disappear
Now every other thing I see
Reminds me of it
That lingering dream
That I can ever be separate
From all else
small, gray, spiked hairdo
overflowing with song
sweet as candy cane
prominent black eyes
lumps of anthracite coal
no flocks for this chickadee
always in pairs, or alone
fussy scolding voice
when perturbed by a mate
otherwise chipper and cheerful
this morning a pair pecks
nibbles seed in the back feeder
selective in their tastes
given it’s spring
most likely babies in the nest
throughout the night
gentle rain
fell softly
washing away
all troubled memories
by morning
nothing was left
to remember or forget
not even the rain survived
what it had washed away
Last night, I slept
with the moon and stars at my back
Awoke with daybreak begging
for an invitation to waltz
Dancing is in my bones
Deeper than the south
and all the world’s confederate soldiers–
those salmon swimming against the current
Dreams, terrible parabolic manifestations
Before their time, found me, washing me overboard
like a tremendous tidal wave
rushing past all resistance
Plunging me into the deepest place
a soul can imagine, yet survive
Deeper even than the baritone monks
singing aside the glassy pool, reflecting our existence
Some things are easy
Integrating the confederacy within us is not
Nor is the dance of 1,000 years
Once accepted, ends all invitations
They argued, firing ugly words back and forth
Just their pain talking–
The pain of staying alive
Of knowing they’re closer to death than life
Picking scabs from old wounds
Making them bleed
Blood is life
Why not make yourself bleed
Growing old isn’t easy
Everything you thought you were falls apart
They bicker because they’re falling apart –
Cell by cell, breath by breath
Sometimes breathing is even too hard
Eventually the arguing stops
That’s when you know–
The end is near
under the feeder
flurry of activity
squirrels chasing their tails
one catches his, one does not
happiness, the tail we chase
Here is a mixed bag. Lots of use of shadows, special effects and other experiments. Hope you enjoy.
Click on this link and see what turns up! You will not be disappointed.
Plump golden sweet corn
Impatient as a clown’s nervous smile
Rebelling against the bluebonnet sky
Marching in place in long fingered rows
Growing, in once fallow fields
by the babbling brook
wandering through the cool green valley
Aimless wildflowers dawdle through late May
Awaiting the corn, sun, and
the long anticipated summer
Then all dance as one dream
For those of you enjoying desert sunsets and ocean scenes, check out my two latest sets on my Flickr photo site. The desert pictures are from a June 2006 trip to Tucson and the ocean pictures are from a Feb. 2006 trip to St. Croix.
Lady birds of peace
whose broad eliptical wings gather hope
as they flutter helplessly
in love with the morning sunlight
You saunter, for no particular reason
through the delicate wildflowers
spraying a blaze of color
at the forest’s edge
To that special point you float, and
sit in loyal courtship
with the one you adore, and
hold forever in your gentle heart
Your near haunting coo lingers
like the morning mist drifting afar
then igniting replies
from others perched high
With the many you gather
but always you sit
in that special place
with just one
Monday morning sunshine
Brightens up my day
Warm breeze ablowin’
Lifts up my spirits, this fine day in May
Rays of sunlight, beamin’ all about
No clouds gettin’ in my way
Linger in the sunshine
Ride the wave, let her set you free
No more cares or woes
Weighin’ heavy on your heart
Nothin’ left to hold you back
Just golden sunlight from the start
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