Thin line of blood trickling down a skinned-knee

divining flood; brittle the crown begins thee.

Once one wonders when they then thunder three

like leavened heavenless breaths friends asunder flee.

Bitterest brine tickling throneless Guaranís

far before unforrested fetters finally fluttering free.

Marking as unremarkable as the fable once decreed:

Begone! Began her long-lost last soliloquy…

I look toward the wondrous night sky

I look toward the wondrous night sky

and imagine what lies beyond.

Perhaps I’m not as far away as they say

maybe there’s no “there” there, after all.

Something outside hides the way,

prevents me from hearing the call…

I look toward the wondrous night sky

and imagine what lies beyond.

Hope is a baby crying for candy

while suckling on mother’s breast –

nothing more.

Fear and love war in my soul,

there is no victor,

but the battle takes a dreadful toll…

I look toward the wondrous night sky

and imagine what lies beyond.

Like an ant in a skyscraper’s basement

my perception is dim,

nothing more than a whim.

Faces pass in the crowd,

I smile, move on.

Onward, never resting, till journey’s end;

and friendless on that last day,

I die alone…

He lives

He lives.

Across the endless expanse of the cosmos,

beyond the boundaries of time and space.

Past the furthest star in the heavens,

within the smile of every child’s face.

He lives.

Before the first molecule was ever formed;

and rising in triumph on the Third Day.

Giving hope and love and life itself;

yet not one atom exists without His say.

He lives.

To glorify our loving Father

through everything we say and do.

And comfort rests in each man’s breast

knowing His sustaining word is just and fair and true.

He lives!


In thunder and in flood

you wonder, where’s the blood?

Then comes a flicker in the blackness

and you’re embittered by the madness

striking streaky strokes so squalid

solid sneaky slopes sans-knowledge.

Why? Is an unanswerable query

you echo in the darkness of eerie

fright despite contrite delight

of gleeful ghosts and glimmering hopes




Yes, the Venerable One

has finally come…

The final vignette

Sky falls from darkest moonglow

through the bottomless depths

of breathless regrets

a limitless plateau

like strawberry rosettes

and stale pirouettes

or nothingness, though

threaded through pairless sets

‘neath Orion’s octets

not a solo so low

beyond pity or threats

I’ll forget long ago

and scarcely outgrow

the final vignette

which must end in woe…


That’s life

A ferris wheel ride to share,

whispered secrets no one would dare

speak out loud for fear of the crowd

down below looking up;

don’t let go, buttercup.

Lighthearted head in the clouds

loudly clamoring calliope melodies

stammering synchronicities

enlightened eccentricities.

Let it all fall together

like the wind in the heather

no prayers allowed

and please, death be not proud…