Thoughts like bricks mortared into walls
Homestead ruins, a fortress standing tall
Orange cinders, dreams that came to rest
Yesterday’s voices, man’s noblest quests

When I was a child, I thought like a child
I danced on wind and heard the sky cry,

“You can feel the rain.
Rainbows live inside of you.
Share them with your world.”

Dewdrops mix with rainbows
Sprinkling over trees in snow
Long pink moonbeam lashes
Falling against a world aglow
Tickling the belly of the earth
Giggles of lanterns glow to see

High wire buzz overhead
Syncopated silence stops
Spilling of memory blots
A war zone of soul knots
Time in a vacuum hissing
A frame of living missing
Barbed wired hearts speak,

Snow hung like fresh icing
Stars hanging in the sky
Sugar coated evergreens
Red cardinals sitting high

Squirrels drawn to trees
Moonbeams giving light
A basket full of red apples

Autumn showers summer hearts
A unison chorus of God’s Spirit
As birds fly, hearts mount wings
A beating of hearts in continuum
All nations soaring in God’s mind

As the sun arises into your night
Walls will fall from your dreams
Roads will merge into one road
Minds will convene in one city
Feet fastened to gold chariots
Ascending in one single breath

Truth roars in river beds rushing
Carving time into granite pages
A voice pushed against Mother
Where humanity is found raging

Silver tongued waters of peace

Drift upon still green waters
Reflect on autumn rustling
Free yourself from turmoil
From honking and bustling

Float quietly with mallards
Defining nature’s wonders

Settled near an arch
A cobblestoned road
Leads weary travelers
To walk a path alone
Step by step they follow
Through a rose’s arbor
With their souls unlaced
To see a Master Cobbler

Without a face, defaced
A convex view of living
Ocular distortions zoom
A periscope of pictures
Peripheral images black
Blind sighted in slumber
A thought with a number

Tiny orange butterflies burst across the field
Scattering in the wind across sunlit daffodils
Sunbeams on my shoulder resting in the day
Colored fountains inside me, in a vast array

Jobless diatribe
You need to pull up boot straps
I do not own boots

A buried treasure
A teacher without a job
Recess all day long

Walk in other’s shoes
Barefoot and do not have job

Bird silhouettes flew from the flaming red sky as the dawn awakened. Twelve towering stones stood in the harbor; cold, dark stones with no heart for the passing throng of mourners.

Heartache is a red blossom
Blowing in fields of living
A single thread rising high
Anchored in loving Mother
A gentle blooming of hurts
Beauty beyond all treasure
Passionate crimson posies