The Place of the Lovers

My love, I have searched for you
in so many shadowed faces
looked through the rags and rich velvet cloth
of so many different places……
that I thought I would die of the thirst of
missing YOU

My love, I have spent past days and nights
in separation, the loneliness of which,
has starved my soul to a perfection of humility
and has taught me the simplicity of a single prayer,

heart in two part harmony

My love, I have come to such a pure place of emptiness,
with every tear spent,
with every word, silenced
with every thought turned useless….
left with only the magnificence of wanting YOU

Yes, my love……I wait,
in this completion of silence
in this unconditional surrender….
not to beg,
nor to manipulate,
not to speak,
nor to sing,
but to wait…..
with the fullness of the inevitability…..

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I Won’t Waste

Life’s not passing any faster
My life won’t last forever
All I have is now
The breath that I’m allowed.

I get disoriented
Confuse the past and the future with the present
Love’s still the open door
True love’s worth working for

I won’t waste a single breath
or waste a day that I have left
The air I breathe is free
as winds of fate brought you to me
Love remains the key
Each day I pray… I won’t waste.

When I slow down I come around to see
What each breath means to me
Without you life would be… completely empty.

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We Ride in the Rain

day in the rain


We Ride in the Rain.

We are happy, we seldom complain.
Something about moving, the quenching,
the drenching, the Softness of Nature’s Hand
on our parched linens.

The Gladness of Man
the moving of the Seasons,
the Ancient Rhythm of commerce,
the Hum of the Marketplace Mantra.

Aromas of Humanity sustain us
as we move sideways, vertically
frantically, erratically, measuring carefully
our pace, our dance, our stance.

We Ride in the Rain.

Love captures us once again.
From old withered hearts,
parades of Color will start;

Let the Sun take a Holiday
and who knows the Art?

Sitting in the Saddle
of the Smile of Krishna
the Benediction of Buddha
the Mercy of Christ
the Wisdom of Allah

We live for the Color of Love.

the Season of the Dove.

the Warm soft hand of God

inside our Velvet Glove.

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Old Radio — Endless Static

I am listening to Van Morrison
on an old radio.

I am an Old Person.

I am remembering a Long Life;
a life that no longer exists.

I am entering this moment called “Now”,
and I can take nothing with me.

Van Morrison fades, and the Radio is gone –
gone into something Younger,
a voice I hardly know.

A Younger Voice is singing about Love & Sweetness;
these Guitar Chords have been used before.
the Minor makes the Major all-the-more worthwhile.

It’s an Old Guitar and a Young Voice,
and the Afternoon aches for recognition
as Time slips by.

Dust of my Species

Van Morrison is gone, and I can’t recall his name.
Young Voices have taken over the radio
and I’m dissolving in a Purple Flame.

The Magic of Love is massaging my Heart,
and I just don’t know What To Do.

Perhaps I’ll just be quiet,
And let the Triumphant Armies of Love
Come Marching right on through.

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The Fragile Human Way

This is a Central Place
This is a Park of Strangers
This is a Gathering of Fragmented Ego
Seeking to express The Inexpressible
Seeking to know the Unknowable
Seeking to merge with Rivers That Flow
in a Purposeful Direction

there is a Central Place.  It's Inside YOU.

This is the Breath given to Life
Given for Packaging, Content & Purpose
Given for Celebration, Communication, Knowledge
Given for the Attention that gives back to Itself
For the furthering of the Infinite Golden Cycle
of Knowing, of Fulfillment, of Joy

This is the Garden of Senior Flowers
a Resting Place in the Timeless Sun
a Watering Hole of Sparkling Luminous Song
Where life renews itself under the Watchful Hand
of the Amazing Avid Gardener
Separating Thorn from Fragile Sprout
The Pulling of Weeds so Love can Breathe
Attention to Details of the Tiniest Need

This is YOUR center.  Is it Important to YOU?

This is the Central Place
An evening of Life-long Celebration
The gathering of Fragmented Eyes
to form a Single Vision:
We all Find our Way
We all Taste the River of Love
We all Know the Golden Spark of Infinite Day

While we Dance, Romance, and Chance
The Fragile Human Way

Where do you Hide, oh Lonely Soul?

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As I sit & write.

The fine lines of snow collected on the cloud.

Steam of coffee vapor pours from my cup.

Life is Alright because I made it so.

Life tastes good because I followed the innate Recipe.

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