12.10.2016
she bought me
a christmas candle
to shine in
the window
and warm my
heart
remembering the
little boy who
saw its orange
flame and felt
safened by
the warmth
like the little
match girl who
saw the angels
in the glow
before
they found her
frozen.
——————-
12.9.16 [warrior two]
warrior two pose
stretches the
thigh
then slides into
a tree from
which
my body slopes
over into a
fall.
breathe through
the strained
place
she implores
hold the
prayer
pose at your
heart center
cycle.
namaste two
tu?
too.
—————————-
12.3.2016
cute doggy
suddenly nips
at mine.
oh he never
does that
he’s such a dear.
yeah, lady
right.
===========
12.6.2016
nighttime agita
wakening stare
ceiling gaze with
no respite
unease
daytime unresolution
gnawing at the soul.
——–
step back, don’t hack
call the times
back
into sack.
==================
12.1.2016
broken people speak
and tell their truth
that the rest of
us are not
nice
while we listen and
nod and hope
that we are
actually
awake.
——————-
11.30.2016
grateful at day’s
end,
appreciative of
opportunities
to be kind to be
helpful
to reach out to
a friend,
grateful for a life
that’s given me
chance after chance
to get it right when
my first shot wasn’t.
grateful, for the style
of Jesus’ life.
—————————–
11.25.2016
early morning darkness
pinpoints of grace
in my sky.
———————-
11.23.2016
blue denim shirt and
jeans, navy guy
school janitor
thin, curley haired
hoped for hero
that I reached out
to when the big kids
threw my treasured
blue plastic automatic
pistol up onto the school
roof over my kinder
garten class
and I went to him and
asked him to get it
down. and he said that
he would, if I was a good
boy and helped him with
the summer yard work
and so every day I
showed up in my
best little boy first
grade shorts and jersey
shirt to pick up
stuff and rake as
best I could and
help with the grass
and then I came for
my beloved blue
plastic gun and
he told me that oh
he had cleaned
everything off the
roof and thrown it
down to the kids
below
and I said how could
you. you promised
and I did everything
you asked me to
and… you promised
and we never
talked again. and
I didn’t understand
but he always looked
away after when I
came by.
————————
11.17.2016
he was angry the
first time he
came with his
small son and
a big chip on his
shoulder.
an angry dad, mid
divorce, ticked at the
women who might
turn him away.
and his son got
a part, small but
in the play
and so did dad
grumping all the
way
until they got on
stage together
and the son
got on stage again
in a bigger part
and dad’s anger
whist away in the
wonder and pride
of how he’d helped
his son.
———————————–
11.20.2016
There are many
sons of God
wise teachers,
compassionate
caring, moral,
mystical and insightful
in their spiritual depth.
I believe in the only
Son of God
who was eternally
begotten, light
from light, begotten
not made, of one
being with the
Father.
It depends on where
you put
the comma.
———————-
PoemsPerDay 