Tiny birds flicker in sunlight
I catch them in the corner of eyes
twice opened
Gifts from God, this vision
I hear what I feel when I sense
fine aroma
This life is more than taste
For the living there is
no recompense
But to simply walk aware
Away I breathe
of this world not in it
Amazed that I am at All
Chagall 2017
There at the end of
the garden are all of
the seasons’ lessons
to be learned
So let’s Us harvest
– for unless we harvest …
© Chagall 2016
I await tremors, tiny waves of seismic rumble to move me
to gaps heretofore unforeseen; shaken, my core
would rise yeasty and warm.
Digression is my mind
off-center.
I struggle to catch balance inside,
astraddle the if and the why,
lacking laurels
to alight on.
World-weary
from nothing, aspiring
to nothing.
And succeeding
rather brilliantly.
Chagall 2017
There’s a song we sing in the mountains
When clouds envelop the peaks
As stars overwhelm the senses
Our hymns overcome the air
We are born to be celestial
From star to dust to star
We constellate in the shape
Of beautifully human
© Chagall 2014
The voices of those I love, now gone, join
in the harmony of angels, to bring
exultation to day and blues to night:
mysterious melody everywhere.
Songs that grow from silence to din
to consume every moment.
Lilts by streams, legato drones among stars,
all to the top to rebirth time,
soli beget duets, until the world is.
Once, again.
Chagall 2017
In a warm hall, tucked away in a quiet corner of the snowy campus, her name is announced, one of many graduates. She has chosen not to attend the event, and so does not hear the calling.
Chagall 2017
I could tell by the way that she handled her boules
that bread-making was not her forte.
Chagall 2017
To be
beneath most,
above all.
Chagall 2017
There’s the drop – listen
Her heart opens to pour out
in minor intervals
The time after promised accord,
her hopes dressed-up like so many peacocks
leave behind embroidered whispers and pale-color feathers
Alone on a bridge
Her gaze more rapid than
the current
To submerge is to invert
ascension slowly in rivulets
without steam in cold reprise
Chagall 2017
atop deep
slow-walking
jade
bottom
music for
down some
broadway
losing love
more than sleep
some
other time
Chagall 2017
Alphabet City 