Mountain Climber

A sunlit meadow

You come upon

Up perilous mountainside.

Spot for rest

So needed,

At last.

Lying in grass

Light washes skin

Closing the gaps

Out and within.

For a moment

Or more

You beg a hope

To make a home

On this ledge

Up perilous mountainside.

You joy to find

Freshwater stream

Babbling nearby.

And rejoicing,

Sweet berries

Sprouting on

Inviting shore.

Moment to minute

Minute to month

So long time forgets

The bitter climb

The broken limbs

The bloodied flesh

To arrive this oasis.

As lessons slip,

Callous thins,

You again mistake

Hospice for home,

Yet reminder stirs

As spring sun shines

On swelling winter glaciers.

Up on high,

River rises from rill,

Riding down

Where you remain

Blissful and blind.

Frigid,

Winter’s waves wash

Wiping haven

And you with

Down perilous mountainside.

Ribs crack on crag,

You cling,

Drag yourself from torrent,

On narrow cliff,

You dry and peek,

Up and down,

Now so hopeless,

This perilous mountainside.

You wait and debate,

As you’ll again do

More oft than not

To climb toward sky

Now further away,

Or fall below

And slumber.

Empathy

What would I feel,

The question asked

Too late or never.

Watch my love,

Burnt alive,

Char still fresh

Screams still ring.

Watch sons

Killing sons,

For lord

Or lady

Or idea,

Yet never as much

As souls of sons.

What would I feel

Were I forced

Bear witness

A daughter raped

And again

Set upon by savage men

Who knew

Better than most

The worthlessness of flesh.

What would I feel

To feed one child

The flesh of brother,

To be so afraid

Of losing another.

When night swallows,

When light can’t win,

What becomes

Of what’s within.

In shadowlands

I walk and ponder

Why we walk alone.

Las Vegas

Though Sky’s gone black,

Sea’s alight,

With a thousand burning brigs,

From a thousand bitter battles,

Fought here.

Alone.

I glide along,

With mindful mastery,

My keel gently kissing,

Debri and destruction,

Grave markers from those,

Who captained less carefully.

From the smoke,

And through the glow,

Another ship,

Torn sails,

Flailing in hot wind,

Without point or effort,

Bearing down upon me.

Pull the sails,

Throw hard the rudder,

My broadside to the danger,

Hoping through haze,

My humble Caravel,

Appears a Man o’ war.

Drawing near,

I see my fear,

Reflected cross the faces,

The weary hang,

Of sailors’ frames,

Adrift upon the water.

As I pull aside,

And watch them by,

No cries for help,

No offers lent,

Their ship sits low,

Their cargo heavy,

And I’ve my own to carry.

Skyline

An exhale,

Smoke rides wind,

To where I can’t follow,

Disappear.

I knew it all,

Or thought,

Yet now so small,

Hope fighting fear,

Together we fall,

To where you can’t follow.

Shimmering skies

Replaced by silhouettes,

Terrifying monuments

To meaninglessness.

Amidst it all you cheer,

Man succeeds,

Man conquers,

Man dominant above all.

Yet in this din and dim,

I’ve died,

By devious deceptions,

And deeds dealt down,

Not by a Father on high,

But thy brother,

Elevated by absurdity

And a number.

All created

I undo,

Slumbering away

In my tower.

Do the hundred souls

Beside me here

See my dreams

In theirs.

Or are those visions

Manufactured

Like the shrines

We can’t be without.

If I find a grave,

Hide away,

A lifetime,

Or longer,

Waken when

Stars shine,

Man surrenders,

And gods don’t ask for money.

Love

Were I to say it once,

I'd mean it forever.

Yet by forever I mean not only,

For only does not make special.

Were you now to split this heart,

In two,

In four,

In more,

You'd find not oozing tar,

Spread cross these strings,

From pain, sorrow, and loss.

Instead, clear as crystal springs

True love we find

Not in bond or lust,

Not in touched and seen,

But in the soul of one who stood,

Though fallen,

Bleeding,

And through lies,

Death and defeat,

Still standing,

Throwing it back

And asking again.

A piercing note of hope

Amidst angry cries

As it begs "Once more"

Of the patient skies.

And with the quiet answer

Seas of anger settle

To what was,

Before details.

My love.

Not a person,

Not a one,

Just this.

Neither taken,

Nor given,

It was ever mine.

In the light,

Waters flowed,

So it grew,

Tall and bold.

And in darkness,

Trying to cut back,

This briar within,

Thorns shredding,

Still it grew.

Living not in muscle,

In blood or brain,

But transcending matter,

Exceeding thought,

Imagination,

Making me believe in

Believing in something.

While anger quiets in death,

This laughs and cries

And continues,

Undiminished,

In full spectrum and splendor.

This is mine.

And this in me,

This marvel,

A miracle,

This lives in all,

More varied and complex

Than could ever be contained

By a book,

Or a helix,

Or a god.

For how can this be,

This purity,

Buried in each of us,

Who are but flesh,

Fragile and foolish.

We pull it out

Hold it up

And waste it away

As God

Or biology

Or nothing.

Perhaps the fall

Was looking out to see in.

But this is mine,

Blinding sunlight,

And I know I can’t explain.

A Lesson

Time goes by and I learn what I wish I knew

Lessons that could have changed choices

Paths that should have been avoided

Hearts I’d have left unbroken

Yet tempered and cooled by time I am

Every pain a step on those shining stairs

A hope that with every drop of blood

I inch from darkness to light

Indeed I’ve come to see these heavy hearts

In myself, those I hide amongst, strangers

More precious than gold or gems

All I’d hope to die for

Sometimes

    Sometimes I’m lost and don’t know who I am.  Sometimes I’m overwhelmed and just want to flee.  Sometimes I don’t know if there is a point at all, sometimes I don’t even hope.

    Sometimes I make mistakes.  Sometimes they hurt others, sometimes they hurt me.  Sometimes they hurt everyone.

    Sometimes I am forgiven.  Sometimes I’m not.  Sometimes it takes a moment to reconcile.  Sometimes it takes years.  Sometimes we fade away.

    Sometimes after all the deeds are done and the words lost to the wind you don’t so much remember the what, just the who.  Sometimes you can never properly explain what happened because that relationship itself defies definition.  

    Sometimes you don’t have to live close.  Sometimes you don’t have to talk everyday.  Sometimes you know that when you see that person, all the rest of life stops so you can live.  Sometimes your night could not be better than something normally regrettable.  Sometimes we cry.  Sometimes from dander.  Sometimes we laugh and talk until time is an irrelevant concept we don’t need to conform to.

    Sometimes things make sense.  Sometimes, things just come together.  Sometimes someone is their drink.  Sometimes they are the spicy, salty, unignorable champion of getting up and on that is a bloody mary.  Sometimes they wrote the book.

    Sometimes when everything else is about to crush me, I just have to shout out a good thing.