Sister Lost

A daydream,

faster than mornings first light beam.

I

lost my sister at birth's hand,

a

long awaited, lonely

monastic love.

MERRY CHRISTMAS

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I've waited too long

with only a dime

I came across a phone booth

I opened the door

and started to pray

for I happened to think

I had no one to call.

From “In The Mist of A Dream”, published in 1970

Return

Twenty years

of dust transcended by

winds traversing through poignant canyons

as tidbits have been telegraphed to a wayward star.

Forgotten is your flowing hair

like the distant sunset to the West.

Faint laughter, arguments

cloaked in naive

love.

Years asleep, I revisited our familiar meeting place.

Bright light was slowly overcome by

darkness,

I heard again,

the echoes from the belltower.

written sometime in 1977

Wakings

Shooting stars burning across the sky

writing a trail of love letters

against the black, but twinkling night.

Night animals sing praises

to your lovely words.

An owl hoots applause

to the depth of your thoughts.

The moon caresses the suns' reflections.

You renew the words

and say hello again

while

the night air breathes a warm

passionate embrace

with the feelings you have conveyed.

Wakings,

renew our strong bond

as the beauty of nature surrounds us.

Another star writes wonderful words of love,

as we blow kisses to the warm wind.

Smell the freshness of life.

Early darkness wakings

during a spring day sleep.

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Everywhere

I look,

I see you.

Pictures

painted on the

walls of my mind

From “In The Mist of A Dream”, published in 1970

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A drop of rain

rolling over my fingers

refreshing, yet so beautiful.

a bead so unabated

as I think of you

walking through the pathways of my heart.

a clarion of sound

from a towering building

overlooking a gigantic cataclysm

of emotion

enthroned by your walked pathways.

From “In the Mist of A Dream” published in 1970