To All Things I Dream

It whispers to my soul

A song I dare not sing

Attempting to escape it 

Under a crystal dome it was placed

Sadly it’s tune was amplified 

There I sat in dim light

As it dug the memories up

An eye, a nose and perfect lips

Those never mattered

It was the heart, the soul 

They bound me

To a memory I wish to forget

Yet run to daily

So I wind it again

Then sit to listen

As it whispers to my soul

A song I dare not sing 



No longer do I try to find you

Those desires now wain

Closed eyes seldom bring your face to me 

Memories of how you would look at me fade

Ghost arms have ceased to embrace me

All that you were and might still be

Suppressed for me now

The love which turned to torment

Drives me mad no more

Oh my love you have been taken from me

By a beautiful blue pill followed by a tiny yellow one


Days still remain in which I desire you again

Then there are no pills

Only your memory  and the ache of nothingness 

Once Again

Swirling turns of the past

Moments which were

Memories which are

There she is

The swirling ceases

Peace abounds

She says my name


This is where I live

Where life is/was at its best

I wonder if she ever returns there too

If it brings her peace

Then at that moment


Are together again


​We walk blindly each day in our blessed lives finding ways to hate each other. How I wish I could share the sights I have seen and conversations I have had. Those who hate do not need a gun to kill. Have you seen an African village removed from the Earth over night by hands swinging machetes? A body passed through a woodchipper over a political disagreement? A homosexual man thrown from a roof because of who he is? A head removed from a body due to religious beliefs? 
The first murder was committed with a rock. It is not weapons we need to eliminate. It is hate. Sadly this will never be. All we can do is live our own lives exuding love, forgiveness, hope. In the end all you can change, is you.

My Present 

I drove away from the ocean today. Left the sand and salty air. Went inland to farm country. I was greeted by the smell of upturn peanuts ready to dry. Cotton fields in full bloom. Warm sun and dusty roads. Hay bails rolled and round or stacked and squared. Dairy cows, beef cows, goats and horses. Each mile bringing back a memory. What a beautiful thing memories are.

When my heart was full I turned around. Headed east. Content with leaving the past where it needs to be. Fields turned to marsh. The breeze became stronger. Birds filled the air. The Sun seemed brighter, happier. Dunes became beach and beach became the Atlantic. Kicking off my flip flops I let the wet sand seep through my toes. I sat and watched the waves taking in their vastness.

This is my present. A content one. A peaceful one. It is not my ending. However,  I think there is no more perfect place to drop anchor and stay awhile.