Thunderstorms

Rolling in the skies and darkness that beckons the storm

Thick black clouds gather together into an ominous form

Gods rolls in deep thunder and clap together their hands

And who on this earth can predict their very sordid plans

These are days you run, hide and pray in mercy to abide

You Never Tire of Me

You never tire of me though the situation may be that dire,

And you, my Lord, never hire me out to an insolent squire,

And my soul is diffident before you, my bows in adoration

As my hands offer libation in an oblation of heart worship,

Of my gratitude in an attitude of love ‘n joyful resignation

Without hesitation in acknowledgment of your salvation,

Because you never tire of me in whom you light your fire

Ride to Nowhere

Welcome to the ride nowhere, somewhere around the corner,

Bound for some new world of fantasy as the whistle sounds,

Eerie looking ahead to make your bed in the nether lands,

Or with bands of nomads on desert plain to sustain living,

Believing there is more uptrack, but little in your haversack,

As the journey into eternity is a neverending bending reality,

What you see thru the glass as it all passes by in banality,

A totality of new abnormality in an endless dimensionality

Ziggurats of Peace

Ziggurats tower high above the world of diplomats and bureaucrats,

Above the clouds of earthen concerns of loud crowds of plutocrats,

Above republicans, democrats, and dealers in their corporate habitats,

Reaching up to heavenly borders where gods reside and angels abide,

Far from the clamor of dramatic glamour with no enamor, no upside,

And will we have to descend from this place we cannot comprehend

But love for the peace it affords to bind our chords to the world again?