Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Book & Cover

Do you judge a
book by its cover,
its words, or
the words between the lines.

Who really is the author
of the fluttering pages
held casually in your hand;
Rumpled thoughts
turned into breathing beads of lyric..
A necklace of a poets fossilized memory.

Weary digits scratch out his
muse’s nudging....

But who really is this dark stranger,
who shares with you his light.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Accidental Gifts of Grace

In a world
where so many have so little,
I am acutely aware
of how abundantly my tree flowers.
how sweet is the
scent of synch
that reaches deep into the roots of my soul....
This was not always so,
these are the accidental gifts of grace
that make us whole.