Mountain

A road less traveled winds it's way
through beastly hot
desert waves of sand,
leading to
the mountain.

Air shimmers before squinted eyes,
mirages of escape routes
turning straight narrow trails
away from the craggy rocks
everyone must climb.

We hide behind pale
moonlight so no one
sees us struggle past
whippy branches of
dying trees, praying
we don't get our heads stuck
in the forked boughs of
despair.

Beacons of trust urge us forward,
onward (Christian soldiers!)
upward...our summit
calls Kyrie...mercy awaits
like soothing oil on weary
feet.

Cresting the peak,
grueling paces behind us,
dangers calling us back,
our future lies in deep valleys ahead,
shadows hide what we have yet
to see.

We kneel in thankfulness...
Safety is ours. For now.
A gift has been given,
embrace it, for it is
right passage out of our
'leading to nowhere'
rut.

Thank you. For alone
I could never have managed
to climb
my mountain.

I Am Poet

I am poet.

I have written words

that make me giggle,

tinkling laughter one hears

on a playground full

of happy children.

I have penned pronouncements

of pure passion,

observed obfuscated

reactions to what I’ve

said.

No higher education have I,

but a wealth of life

I have lived, translating

experience into…

something.

Words of passion, love

desire...

all this when my mood

shines brighter than

any sun

Morbidity, sadness…

gloominess not so subtly veiled.

I force my pen upon the paper

with violence, angering the

words, crying with

depression.

Alas, my works may not

make me millions,

or thousands, even

hundreds and tens

stretches the limit.

A random thought…

what if my words

are never read again?

Will it stop me

from sharing

my thoughts?

I write because

I can.

Ink flows from

my desire to

convey, inspire,

perspire.

I write because

I

Am

Poet

Restless Slumber

Throughout the night

of restless slumber

vague images of 

people and places

criss-cross

sub-conscious 

thoughts.

A myriad of muted shadows,

faceless bodies,

nameless faces,

shapeless doors that lead

into places 

one shouldn't

dream about.

Love is there, 

enjoying a teasing 

moment,

goading me to return

from the darkness

of a not so peaceful

sleep.

Restrained fighting,

arms stretch across time, 

reaching for lacy wisps

of your embrace

A touch...your touch

lips caress fluttering

eyelids, fingers dance

across my skin,

still cocooned in

the clutches of my repose.

Finally I awake,

you are there

with me. You smile

as my eyes focus

on your face, flushed

with happiness.

I have awoken

in the presence

of the one who

comforts me after

my restless slumber.

Old and New - A Poem of Love.

Along sandy beaches

we slowly reminisce as

our past rolls over

bare feet, waves of

memories curl around

our toes.

Shy glances, sparks of

crystal glistening in your

deep eyes, thoughts

conveyed by a simple look.

Your voice is clear,

a gentle word is

spoken, a muse of

love as strong as

swells on deep

blue seas.

Warm breezes caress

skin, yet goosebumps

arise like tiny soldiers

standing guard over

feelings that will never see

battle again.

Hand holding hand,

afraid to let go.

sunset fades into hues

of orange sashes

red strokes of passion.

We're falling in love

all over again.

No Sound

There used to be notes

above the words

I would write.

But now I am

a quarter through

a fifth,

the major part of

the thought is gone,

drowned in its own

sorrow and pain.

All that’s left

is the straight line

of mediocrity,

wallowing in self pity,

wishing for some semblance

of reason.

But

(there’s always a but)

in my head, there is

no sound.