Sonnet of Unrequited Love

Twas mine own proclamation of emancipation
When I didst tell thee of passionate affection,
Which didst proceed from an opened heart
That cared not how thou might play thy part,
But for sake of my tender soul ye wert kind,
And in thine eyes some honest pity I didst find,
And thou didst not reprimand me nor demand
That I should take my leave to ever be banned
From seeing thee again in some fondly way,
And thus, though sadly, did I await that day;
Nay, thou even granted a kiss upon my cheek
But ye also implored me another love to seek;
Ah! I have found such, yet thou art mournful,
But o’er my fortune why now be so scornful?


I Looked for You

I looked for you in bars and in the stars,
In plush beds and in might river heads,
As I knew you were bound to be found,
And I searched through the thick forests,
Perched on large limbs to see only you,
And I travelled gravel roads to find you,
And looked through hills and old mills,
But you were not anywhere to be found,
Though I could hear your whisper sound,
And I wondered as I blundered through
This world into which I had been hurled
How I could hear someone so very dear,
But never find . . . never see . . .
So I looked in one final place: my heart
And there you were with traces of grace,
Where you had been all along,
Where you always did belong,
And now I sing your song ‘n freely dance
And prance and now suddenly see you . . .

Hear the Voice, Make the Choice

Yes, I know there is something in you that longs
For light and life, peace and truth so very bright
Even as you look star-gazed into the nightly sky
Trying to think of the way to shrink the cosmos
Into your mind and there bind it to be your own
Where seeds of immortality are sown in beauty
And you imagine it to be your duty to be as God
As you tread the sod of earth, place of your birth
For this is where you find your worth in existing
So you keep persisting in the chase but resisting
Answers given long ago in script and lovely song
Going your own way day by day, never your soul
To stay ever in one place as you outpace yourself
In your relentless race to trace the fine line of life
But Life itself has already found you
Your only need is but to turn around!
Hear the Voice call and make a marvelous choice!

“He is our God; we are the people he cares for, the flock for which he provides. Hear his Voice . . . hear his Voice.” (From the 95th Psalm of the Hebrew scriptures)

Chasing (After the Wind)

Pacing myself
Racing to find you

I hunt you down in the alleyways of my mind,
But I can’t find you there; where are you now?
I crawl in the corridors of my heart and bawl;
Have you left me bereft of all love from above?

Pacing myself
Racing to find you

I peek in every corner of my soul as I seek you;
I am faint ‘n weak; can you hear my complaint?
Around every corner I expect to see you, true?
And you are there, too, somewhere like the air!

Pacing myself
Racing to find you

Searching, reaching, teaching myself patience;
Lunging ahead, plunging down under for you,
I give all of myself to fall again into your arms,
To see your emerald eyes so clearly, so dearly!

Racing to find you
Pacing myself

Forest Pilgrim: Another Way, Brighter Day

Thick forest, tattered hood in tangled wood,
Walking along well-worn path with long-born grief
With no relief but in the belief that there is an end;
Weary traveler sends signal shouts absorbed
By the trees and foliage, and nothing to see
Beyond the thicket surrounding all around,
And not even the sound of singing birds
Bringing sweet news from higher views . . .
Has he been this way before?
O weary traveler, you cannot ignore
In gullibility the possibility that you’re circling round
And are bound to meet yourself coming and going . . .
Stop here! This is somewhere, anywhere that may be,
And not nowhere; why tear yourself in two
Because you can no longer bear the burden?
There is bound to be a better way this day, some say;
Stay for awhile and rest in nest of cloak and grass . . .
Let some time pass in peace and the war inside cease,
Then look for the narrow road less traveled
By the brook of clear water always running near,
So dear to the pilgrim in thick forest of tangled wood;
See out from under your hood the way up and out
And sooner than later you will shout in daylight
Upon plains lush and bright at the sight of which
You will dance and prance like newborn fawn
In the rising dawn far away from well-worn path
Where heart was torn by soul-born grief . . . Relief!

Hopes and Dreams (Recast)

Hope deferred makes sick, indeed, the human heart,
Always obscure no matter how hard we pray and play our part.
Sick, worried, bereft of dreams, aimlessly we wander
So long in the wastelands of despair, good we no longer ponder.

Oh! what is our life without hopes and dreams, but vain?
And what is life without the Gardener herself to sustain?

Dreams shadowy, nebulous, planted in the nether shallow
By other-worldly hands in the Garden of All Souls Hallow.
How do they take root and grow neath the ground of Mystery?
These hope-filled dreams, ever-growing so elusively?

Oh! what is our life without hopes and dreams, but vain?
And what is life without the Gardener herself to sustain?

How do we enter through the Gate of the Burning Unknown
To pull or pluck our hopes and dreams so vaguely sown?
Or should we wait outside the Gate, vagabonds in begging,
For the Gardener to give us such fruit without charging?

Oh! what is our life without hopes and dreams, but vain?
And what is life without the Gardener herself to sustain?

Oh! what is our life without hopes and dreams, but vain?
And what is life without the Gardener herself to sustain?

Note: Original published in October 2014

On the Edge of Reality

Like night and day, no one can say which way you’ll turn;
To the right or left, jump in the light or run into the night,
Who knows where you’ll show yourself next and when,
And then how high will you fly? Or will ya crash and burn
At the very next turn as you churn inside and never learn?
You show an immense proclivity to levity and flippancy
With no dependency on discernment or shrewd selectivity
In the gravity of genuine life lived with some perspicacity;
You’re rather like the wind that sweeps round every bend,
Sending the debris of people tumbling this way and that
At your appearance through the day without adherence
To respectability, propriety or any suitability to decency;
Like dark and light twirling and swirling in the one vortex
Of your soul, no one knows whether you’ll shine or recline
In the shadows where you’ll pine for love too high to grasp
As you gasp for the fair air of purity in some serenity of life,
But you’re prancing along in fantasy,
Dancing on the very edge of reality…
On the edge of reality

Note: First published August 2016

And Heaven Comes Crumbling Down

Islands in the sky, castles in the clouds;
Some place safe to live, laugh and love under shroud,
So no one else will know below; no sticks or stones to throw
∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝ no shouts deafening loud…

Portal of heaven, you see me through; I knew
All along where I really belong, so I’ve sung this song
So long my voice is barely whisper tone, and inside I groan
∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝ to know if you’ve ever known?

Is weight too heavy to bear, though you care?
And is this fair question to ask, never you to ensnare,
But just to know, to finally show if burden proved too much
∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝ to give humanity your crutch?

Mystery wrapped in fields that yield corn, wheat
And fatted calf to eat; blood on the altar, and bones
On cold stones; you left too soon when all earth was your boon,
∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝ and we sing hymnic-sad tune…

Nothing near in Nirvana,
Too much noise to hear,
We cannot safely steer,
I’m plowing under here;
Hold me, hold me dear.

Islands in the sky, castles in the clouds;
Some place safe to live, laugh and love under shroud,
So no one else will know below; no sticks or stones to throw
∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝∝ no shouts deafening loud…


Looking: The Desperate Pilgrim

walkingNo stone mark, nor tears for the ground;
Of love’s mercy angels hear not a sound.

So I’m looking for another answer;
Looking for another gateway;
Looking for another reason
To wake up and greet the day.

And toils and tears are marking time;
And life is full of grit and grime.

So I’m looking for another dance;
Looking for another sky to fly;
Looking for another chance
To love‘n never say good-bye;

Ne’er weeping voice to complain,
No song sung with sad refrain.

So I’m looking for a new song to sing;
Looking for a new trick to try;
Looking for a new prayer to pray
To take away the tears I cry.

When shall this joke be buried deep,
And laid to rest ‘neath muddy heap?

And I’m blinded by the light
You’re all but out of sight
And it may as well be night.

Why stand afar and why so aloof?
Shall faith and trust be my reproof?
Leave me not in anguished desire,
Only to love and burn with your fire!