Rain

           RAIN

I open my window,
a crack,
just to hear you
You have this way,
a knack,
when I’m near you
I close my eyes
and listen 
Imagine the leaves,
their glisten
You relax
and you sooth me
You inspire
and you move me
You put
my mind
at ease
As you breeze
through
the trees
The rhythm
of your tears
It’s music
to my ears
The breath
of a sigh
As the clouds
gently cry

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I open the curtain,
the blind
Open my heart,
my mind
I see your
scattered flight
Framed
in morning light
You relax
and you sooth me
You inspire
and you move me
You change
my mood
in an instance
You wash
my worries
to the distance
The tranquility
of the scene
Sprinkles
on my screen
The essence
The refrain
My affinity
for the rain

 

 

Silence

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Silence

 I hear the furnace kick in, on this cool morning.
An awakening nudge, from within the silence…
my creative silence.

It is then that I notice,
gradually notice more
The nuances of early morning
Just outside my door
The stillness of the lake
The shadows near the shore
A family of four ducks
And behind them two more
A peaceful place to begin my day
Alone, with some time to explore

A window to an opened mind.
A unique view, from within the silence…
my creative silence.

The façade of my introspection
Protective, but paper thin
Accessible, in the early morning
Without the voices or the din
An undisturbed opportunity
To summon, from within
The chance to visit places
Where I have seldom been
Insights, subtly perceptible
Like the drop of a pin

The sound of my ideas resonates,
clearly audible to me, from within the silence…
my creative silence.

Discernable refrains of thought
Echoing inside my peaceful shell
The intricacies of perception
From the depths of my well
The complexities of emotion
The conflicts that I must quell
Lost, and found, in the early morning
Immersed in what to tell
A place to elevate my opinions
Up from where they fell

I find my positive inspiration,
emerging, from within the silence…
my creative silence.

The early morning moves me
As the words start to flow
Drifting through the shadows
Like the ducks, in a row
Lines of innate substance
Gaining momentum as they go
Buoyant, lucid, more certain
Shedding inhibitions as they grow
Brought into the morning light
From this tranquil place I know

The quiet of the morning finds me here.
Where I can hear myself think…
within my creative silence.

 

Suspended

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Suspended
A wind worn branch,

reduced to a splinter.
I am a rabbit hole,
hidden beneath winter.

The morning starts out the same…
With smiles and good intentions
With energy and lofty goals
  But, the minutes are ticking
Toward the end of both
Toward the mid-day lull
Imagination grinding to a halt
Hitting the proverbial wall.

Wheels locked in place,
 gears wanting in power.
I am time standing still,
hand stuck on the hour.


The reluctant optimist,

 hopeful that there is more.
I am a tree lined road,
winding to the shore.

There is a fine line in place…
That separates good from great
That distinguishes less from more
 Potential, on the threshold of change
Sometimes it meets a path
Sometimes it’s on a ledge
The brink of a breakthrough
 Precariously near the edge.

An expanse from a destination,
 a misstep from being lost.

I am a suspension bridge,
 longing to be crossed.


The battered pitcher,
that’s been to the well.
I am the grizzled veteran,
  with stories left to tell.

Personal insights ready to be shared…
Seeing the importance of each day
Seeing the enormity of the little things
So much potential, yet to be met
Bringing along a passion for life
Bringing an open book to the table

The mind is more than willing
The body, fighting to be able.

A semi-automatic rifle,
unsure of where it’s aimed.
I am the winning lottery ticket,
waiting to be claimed.

 

 

Confined

“People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it.”
– Jim Morrison20150930_213223[1]

 Confined

He goes to bed each night
alone with the ache
 His internal conflict
keeping them both awake
Wakes up weary every morning
lying beside his vanity
With a smile for his children
and a check mark for his sanity

Physical versus mental
in a battle of his pain
Sensory and substantial
is the signal from his brain
From necessity and habit
you conceal what you feel
It’s mind against matter
with wounds that won’t heal

Scar tissue and time
The confines of the mind
Self-motivation
Self-preservation
Selfishly suppressing the pain
Scar tissue and time
A safe place to hide
He
fights the pain

His wounds remain
Sustaining himself from inside

An actor playing himself
in the true story of he
Absorbed in the role of everyman
and that’s who he has to be

Scripted by circumstance
he has lines on every page
Penned for his own purposes
he is resplendent on his stage

 
A song written in his head
but needed by his heart

Lyrics intended for healing
they’re upbeat from the start
Motivation for mind and body
 Affected, but indeed sincere
He gives a selfless performance
for everyone to hear

Scar tissue and time
The complexities of the mind
Self-medication
Self-preservation
Selfishly deflecting the pain
Scar tissue and time
Enduring another day
Different roots of pain

No Ledger or Cobain
Determined to go another way

Scar tissue and time
You conceal what you feel
It’s mind against matter
When wounds never heal

Scar tissue and time
In the confines of your mind
You ascend another day
Starting from behind

 

Ours

Ours
I sit at the end of the dock

Alone, on the edge of a new day
I scan our horizon, and smile
Content,
about thinking this way
It just feels like it belongs to us
That it’s all ours, and therefor mine
That we have our own entire lake
 And our own sprawling shore line
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There is a definite sense of self
A fulfillment, based on our decision
Circumstances, that brought us to now
How I got to this position
As I breathe in our fresh air
and feel our cool morning breeze
My heart embraces the moment
My mind notes all that it sees

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I see our fence and our fire wood
I see the garden we need to weed
I see our house that we are renovating
into the home that we need
I look up to see our deck
I see just how it’s positioned
I can picture our awesome view
Even more than we envisioned
I see our tall, imposing hemlock
Our kayaks that lie in its shade
See the route we’ve taken to our place
I see all the choices we’ve made

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I see the end result to our patience
I see the fruits of this past year
I see the promise in our future
I see exactly how we got here
I see all of our perseverance
I see the challenges that we’ve met
I see how we’ve faced them all together
and I am as content as I can get

Content with this life for our family
Content with how this all came to be
Content with this time that is ours
Content, and smiling, at all that I see

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Five

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Five


Turns her light on

as my feet touch the floor
I set my alarm for five
been awake since four

“Already,” I hear her say
echoing my first thought
Her six hours of sleep
one more than I got

“Stay in bed,” I suggest
three seconds too late
Gets up with me at five
doesn’t leave until eight

Meeting again in the kitchen
a few minutes after that
Two cups for tea and coffee
a scoop of food for the cat

A quiet morning moment
her eyes finding mine
Five seconds of a hug
same warmth every time

I hear her kettle whistle
as I shut the bathroom door
Three quarter turn of the tap
and then left a little more

A double pump of shampoo
a rinse, a towel and a mat
Five minutes for a shave
a couple to dress after that

It all seems so similar
same reason and same rhyme
Putting on a pair of pants
one tired leg at a time

A kiss at a quarter to six
and I am out the door
Already looking forward
to sometime after four

Doesn’t make a single difference
if it is routine or not
 Whether it’s this home, now
or in the new one we’ve bought

We are in this together
and it goes both ways
A team working as one
for those five busiest days

What makes it worthwhile
is that it is the two of us
Making seven lunches
and getting five to the bus

Can only strengthen our bond
make us feel more alive
Supporting each other
even when the clock says five

It’s what will make our new home
far more than just bricks
And it will feel five times better
when we can set the alarm for six

Morning

Partial Sun for Every

Morning

The morning has a way of seducing me with her obvious charm. Quiet and unassuming, but full of character and warmth. She knows precisely how to push my buttons or when to put me at ease with that subtle smile. The openness and availability of the morning often leaves me sitting and listening, and thinking about how to extend that moment and capture her essence.  I try to absorb the feeling she creates and take it with me into my busy day. When I let the morning touch my mood, the rest of the day becomes our companion and we have the morning to thank for getting us together. Our ebb and flow are interconnected in a reciprocal relationship and the pace of the day is whatever we agree upon. More often than not she gives me the energy to propel myself headlong into all of the possibilities…the crispness of that first rush of air filling my senses…body and mind invigorated with the newness of the day.

Impressionable

trail for prose

Remembering a perfect morning in the July of my youth.

 Six a.m. came none too soon
I was up to join the birds.
The sun stood smiling down
A brightness warmth beyond my words.
As I packed my thoughts to go
I could feel my heart pound.
I crept down the creaky stairway
Door closed with little sound.
There was no early morning chill
I was fervent with anticipation.
Striding anxiously down the road
Through the schoolyard, past the station.
There would be all day to play…
To ride my bike or toss the ball
For now my focus was very clear…
And I could hear this other call.
 

At last the dirt trail,  framed by dew
My pace grew more rapid still.
Soon I would see the brook
And beside it was my hill.
Perched there on top of the world
I spent many a boyhood morn.
While all around me life began
As another new day was born.
Sometimes I would just lie there
Studying each nuance of sky.
Imagining some world beyond
Where clearest blue was not so high.
Where every breath of air is fresh…
Where peaceful thoughts reside.
A place where discovery goes on…
Where days like this have never died.

sky for prose

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