Fishing

Sun bathed lake shimmers.
Shafts of light in the water
impale darting fish.

Separate Ways

There are no unspoken words
hovering between us.

The most dense of silences
engulfs us.

Memories we shared
have fled like frightened birds,

Carrying with them our glimpses
of future togetherness.

We circle each other warily
angling to be the first to walk away,

And then we both unravel,
as the tie binding us is shred in silence.

A Cry in the Night

I was awakened by a baby’s crying last night,
but it must have been a dream.
You are schooled and grown
and living in a different city.

Perhaps it was the meowing of my cat,
misread in a twilight haze of sleep,
or the fervent wish
that I could make things right
by lifting you from your bed
and comforting you in my arms.

Alas you are burdened with
adult concerns and problems that
don’t melt away in the enchantment
of soothing melodies and
softly spoken words.

The pain of separation,
the trauma of divorce,
would that my mother love could heal you
from the grief of awakening from a fairy tale.

I was awakened by a baby’s crying last night,
so distant the memory, so sweet the dream.

Silence

When the only way to dream is to sleep
and hope is but a wish to forget,
the future looks
as dull as the yawn of a cat
sated and drained of curiosity;
as treacherous as a freefall
through unfathomable emptiness.

I look up from my desk,
staring vacantly at dusty books
carefully collected over my lifetime and
thoughtfully arranged on towering shelves.
Why should my uninspired hands
reach up to open one?
What words could bring color
to my washed out dreams?
Like Dante’s Virgil,
these writers were my friends,
but now I sense that they would reject me
just as firmly as I disown myself.

I open a once favorite book that I find
in a precarious pile of clutter on my desk.
I turn the page and rest my hand
on memorized words
that once touched my heart,
but now I am numb to their meaning.
All that remains is an empty gesture,
my open palm resting on the page.
Yet the coolness of the page soothes.

Suddenly my cat leaps
and settles by my hand,
entreating me for its next meal.

Autumn Serenade

The first gusts of winter
were rustling the autumn foliage,
releasing brightly colored leaves
from the bondage of life,
when our paths at long last crossed,

You set in your ways,
me inextricably tangled in mine,
yet both of us in thrall
to a love greater than ourselves,
longing for a togetherness
that seemed out of reach

But was as necessary to both of us
as the crisp autumn air.
So amidst dying leaves dancing
to the allegro of winter’s windy entrance,
we initiated our courtship.

Under flocks of migrating birds
we sought union in
the autumn of our lives,
and wondered where we,
aging lovebirds exiled from different flocks,
might migrate to winter together.

We chose destiny over nature,
love over the comfort of
harboring with the flock.
Winter is near but we are
warmed by our closeness.

This I know.
When I finally succumb
to the cold breath of winter,
I will continue to live
as you breathe my name.

Life Cycle

Become a raindrop, playful and brave.
Leap from the clouds without a parachute.
Coalesce with your companions in descent.
Splash down as one on the open sea.
Ride fortune’s wave
until you succumb to the depths,
and gratefully become the ocean.

The Letter

As my fingertips glide on
the faded page,
now aged to a golden hue,
your words touch me once again,
parting thoughts from a true friend
lost to the everlasting.

Beneath my fingertips
are your words of courage,
gently carved into the yielding paper
and tinted midnight blue by
the tip of the pen that was guided
by your beloved hand.

Would that I could now
grasp that pen and
write your name,
but that writing instrument
is long lost, like so many
small important things in life.

That is why I touch you
in the only way I can,
by gliding my fingertips
across your courageous words
on the faded page,
now aged to a golden hue.

Friendship

Yours is the voice that quickens my heart,
and your pain melts my being.

Be strong, my friend, in your struggle
which is ours.

Without your laughter, I am moved to tears.
Without your hope, I am desolate.

Take my hand, and emerge
from your solitude.

Hear my voice, and release
your despair.

We are bound to each other
in this ocean of life.

Let’s rise to the surface hand in hand,
before we settle in a tangle at the bottom.

Whispered Dreams

Your breathing serenades
my whispered dreams,
rising and falling in the night.

Winter’s Gift

Winter’s haze
envelopes the visible
in a ghostly blur of
veiled solitude.

A church steeple floating
on a sea of mist
beckons the eye
heavenward
and then fades from view
as it dons a white shroud.

A symphony of hushed snowfall
takes the stage;
all become one
as time is suspended
by the unchanging flow
of the crystalline white cascade.