The Myth of Emptiness

When trade winds die, and breezes cease to blow
The sun's rays slice the vault, a brutal knife.
The vast, unending waves, so dark and low
Seem empty, deathly calm, devoid of life.

On cloudless nights, we gaze into the sky,
An infinitely dark and lonely place,
Where mankind has no home, can only try
To think and dream and fill the barren space.

A grieving heart that aches for what is past.
That loses faith, that cannot love, or dream.
Waits only for finality, a Last.
Longs hopelessly to join that Western stream.

Yet all these things, the heart, the sky, the sea.
Are full of beauty, waiting for release.

Wither Like the Grass

One thin man climbs the hill, slipping and sliding as he steps on boulders, grunting as his body hits the ground once again. With the last of his strength, he crawls to the top, and stands staring into the black depths of the water so far below him.

As he falls through the air, a sunbeam bounces off the sea below, and makes a halo around his smooth head, and his wrinkled face. He calls out, in one last fleeting, flying prayer, the soulless roar of a man who earned and fought, but never lived. The hollow cry of a creature who abstained from love.

Dictator's Legacy

A fervent man of pensive mien
Yet wanders through a world unseen
As truth and love both pass him by
And leave him lonely, dark, and lean.

For danger lurks in isolation
When a man, or more, a nation
Lives within itself and makes
A dogma from interpretation.

Beginning

The hot Durango dust
has settled, on the place where she lay.
The sky is still blue,
And the earth is still brown,
Like her eyes, and her hair and her skin.

But she is gone.
And while we search for answers,
And mourn for this ending

She soars.
Leaving the thin, transparent earth
That we call real
And finding Reality and Peace

While we wait, in the dust,
And water the future with our tears
And misunderstandings.


In memory of Daisy M. The niece of my very dear friend, who died while visiting her grandparents in Mexico.