Good Adaptations

Blue appears the perfect color for the sky,

wings work well for the birds as they fly.

How then are the things of which I consist,

so inappropriate for a world such as this?

The powers that are vital here for success,

in me are wholly lacking or scarce at best:

The stress expected by our environment,

the drive to strive is not my native talent.

Oh! To live in a place I’m constituted,

of inner gifts and outer needs well suited.

Where I can lay aside my soul’s contortions,

myself within the world now well proportioned.


Blurry Days

On a clear blue day,
sometimes I’m not ready,
to see and to be seen.
Give me one that’s gray,
soft and somewhat blurry,
to ponder and to dream.

And let it rain a lot,
in buckets and in sheets,
and wind buffeting the windows.
Lost within my thought,
tucked deep beneath my sheets,
I’m careless which way the wind blows.

Sunny days can be very fine,
But rainy ones are quite sublime.
Though clear blue skies are delightful,
Cloudy days are more insightful.


Hope, In Times of War

In times of war, there are no rules.

We justify ourselves.

Rules may be recalled later, discussed by history;

Examining ourselves through hindsight, judging by a peacetime morality.

Not now, not yet!

Now is the time for power.

Our every action is now justified by desire:

By need, our greed, and because…

Because they were unfaithful first, we have become unfaithful.

Because everyone is doing it, it has become our ethics.

Because we killed God, God is dead, so we shall erect our own Gods.

Because we know no truth, we will make our own.

Because they are not us, we will hate them.

Because they don’t do as we do, we will fight them.

Because they have what we want, we will scheme and steal.

Because we’ve been hurt, we will hurt.

Because we do not agree, we will not agree!

Because the past was evil, we will make the present even worse:

We will envy, we will kill, we will destroy, and we will lie,

and lie, and lie, and lie.

Because it is war, and we can do it.

Will anyone stand for goodness?

Only goodness, simple goodness.

Does anyone hear its tiny voice?

See it crying in the rubble.

Calling, calling quietly?

I envision someone purely good;

This makes me cry.

I cry for the beauty of the goodness;

And I cry again for its rarity.

Who will love in wartime?

Who will lay aside ‘because’?

Who will resist their ‘Cause’?

And stand for simple goodness;

A universal goodness?

For kindness, gentleness,

And self-control?

Are any of us strong enough,

To be at peace in time of war?


Time’s Masterpiece

Time engraves its passage in both man and tree,

Etched in furrowed skin and softly drooping limb;

A tree becomes more graceful through time’s artistry,

But for man youth’s beauty and abilities do dim.

Rare are they who delight in this life’s passing trial,  

And few men lose themselves, as does a tree;

First shade, then sacrificing body to the wood pile,

From sprout to fire they become time’s masterpiece.

Our fair youth laments the passing of each year,

The sculptor really does carve very cruelly;

The physicalities we’ve held so close and so dear,

Once lost, become a timely opportunity.

Forget those things that made for youthful charm,

Embrace the art of living like the trees;

Cast aside the consuming love of what you are,

Love others with a newfound human charity.

When youthful love is directed inward, towards our face,

Shame overtakes us at the close of this life’s race.


Perhaps, the Most Pitiable of Men

When God gazed upon me,

I believed I was the apple of His eye,

though when I climbed up and into that heavenly pupil,

I fell into deep darkness,

and found myself alone there.

Woe to me,

and those like me,

who have only their rage,

to comfort them,

and their violence,

to keep them company.

God touched the earth,

and I felt its sorrows,

He gave me the pains,

to endure in time,

as sweet expectation,

dances in the wind.

Yes, I heard the trumpet call,

and saw a golden sash,

upon which was written:


But I could not find the way.



From within the numbing doldrums of a mind intent on worry,

on concern, on planning, on being prepared;

Out of the dearth of activating faith in our God above,

in trust, and hope, and love of what is unknown;

A spirit of invigorating life descended upon me,

igniting neurons that had slumbered;

A dove of light brought life to my apathetic mind,

which set me to remembering our God once again.

Oh joy! To remember after having forgotten,

to feel lighting-fast-thought flash here to there;

He shook me awake, like a slap to the face,

cold water over my head, tingling down my spine;

He spoke me alive, “life is to be lived,”

lived in love of Him and for what He has made;

He startled me out of my waiting stupor,

filled with anxious plodding and ponderous ennui;

I turned from my self-absorbed stultifying fear,

whereupon this is how He saved me.



Through the thickets and the vipers of my inner world’s nest,

From every crook and turn and eddy where the demons do infest,

I’m searching for that treasure of a life that will not bite me,

A spiteless, and a fightless place, abounding in serenity,

Where goodness lays me softly down, in that my soul finds rest.

Shut the doors! Shut them fast! Allow this world in, no longer!

That wicked place where everyone is eaten by the stronger,

Find me in a quiet room, with manna from the skies,

Satisfied and peaceful, every tear wiped from my eyes,

At home again, no longer lost upon this earth to wander.  

Is this a Shangri-La, Utopia, or my solipsistic fantasy?

Would heaven breach this world faster, just because I’m weary?

Make-believe will never bring this reality to its knees,

This world outside me—and within—will not do, simply as I please,

When will God come, and finally give, the answer to my query?


A Real Life

If you make a meal,

but forget to ‘post’ it;

is it real?

You enjoy a sunset,

yet nobody ‘loved’ it;

was it worth it?

A tree falls in the forest,

and nobody heard it;

did it make a sound?

Another day passed,

but you signed no autographs;

do you really matter?

What is the meaning,

of one man breathing?

You are a universe.

If you will put away your phone,

and can find yourself alone;

this is a beginning.

What is the sound,

of your own heart beating?

It is life!

If you can live your life,

when nobody ‘likes’ it;

you are blessed.


Are There Dogs in Heaven?

Will there be dogs with us in God’s heavenly kingdom?

I sure hope so; though the reality is mere speculation.

All the animals we love, from this world, will God bring them?

If He does so—that would certainly be—our great jubilation!

To gaze again into their deep, soulful eyes,

To feel the warm glow of their faithful tranquility;

And for all to be free! From our drear earthly sighs,

Raised into the rapt joy of our new spiritual bodies.

What might God have in mind, for our glorious reunion?

Of everything made through His Limitless Wisdom;

All the cute critters and man, as celestial creations,

A beautiful, bountiful world—gathered to Him.

I pray that along with man’s deification;

Would be our beloved animal’s spiritual transformation.