A Poem for Peter

We worked to the rhythm of forklifts,
Surrounded by men with strong backs;
On our shift was a worker named Peter,
Who had spent his life filling the racks.

He spoke very little, but whistled a lot,
To a tune that nobody knew;
One evening we spoke for a minute- no more,
But in that minute my consciousness grew.

"What are your plans for the weekend?"
I asked him one Friday night;
"Ice fishing," he answered quite briskly,
Then he smiled; an uncommon sight.

I laughed 'cause I thought he was joking,
I was young in body and mind;
"Ice fishing," I put forth naively,
"Is nothing but a waste of your time!"

He didn't stop smiling or walk away,
Instead he looked deep in my eyes;
He spoke very kindly in a fatherly voice,
The way of the aged and the wise.

He said:
"I guess it is something you must do to understand."

Many years have since passed and the warehouse is closed,
Life's current has swept me away;
To another life without concrete walls,
Where I write poetry, I sing, and I play.

One morning while I was meditating,
Sitting still and clearing my mind;
My child asked what I was doing,
When I told him he wasn't unkind.

He didn't judge or laugh at me,
And he was curious, to be sure;
Then, when my child spoke to me,
His voice was wise and pure.

He said:
"I guess it is something you must do to understand."

I don't know what happened to Peter,
But the story that lives in my soul;
Has him happily living in Heaven,
Looking down through an ice fishing hole.

Live each day as though it were your first

Before i knew of anything, i knew of love.
Love was already there.
In everything my eyes fell upon,
In every breath of air.
i can't recall what came next,
Was it hope or was it fear?
If only i could remember,
Life would be more clear.
'Live each day is it were your last',
Does not a Heaven build.
It makes of life an empty cup,
Waiting to be filled.
To walk as one enlightened,
And really quench your thirst.
Awaken each and every day,
And live it as your first.

Life's a Celebration

I've seen mountains and oceans,
Heard whispers in the leaves,
Dined with dragonflies when time stood still,
And held his little hand in mine.

He grew with every step he took,
Found stillness in a smile,
Took a breath which was my heart,
And sang the songs of innocence.

He sang:
"There is no end to wonder",
"No escaping what's meant to be",
"Life's a celebration to the end",
Then he stomped his foot down hard.

I've seen rainbows and daisies,
Felt love - more than my share,
I've prayed with the sun for a thousand hours,
And he taught me one day.

Rainbow Chaser

Dear Rainbow Chaser,

The horizon is never too far away,
Your dreams are just over there,
Somewhere.

Believe what i say,
Let them float in on waves,
To you.

You don't even have to move,
In fact, it's better if you're still,
Don't wake up.
Sleep...
Sleep...
Dream.
And listen for your dreams on the waves.

Majestic Dawn

Consider thy purpose, oh Majestic Dawn,
In grand recluse thy spirit doth shone,
To whisper spells in sacred song,
That halts dark Night from living on.

A covenant of passion, each brilliant ray,
Of which thy doubtless heart shall stay,
On bitter chase of looming grey,
That swallows Dawn to bring forth Day.

Each dew drop left in thy fragrant wane,
An Angel's suffrage of grave disdain,
To Mankind's own inveterate pain,
That thought of purpose need be lain.

The Tale of Two Brothers

Once upon a time, two brothers found their way,

Into the woods, one fine spring day.

They skipped and they jumped, they ran and they climbed,

Excited about all the wonderful things they would find.





Chipmunks and squirrels scampered in and out,

To see what all the noise was about.

And birds flew out from their hiding places,

To sing their songs for the smiling faces.






"Look! We have new friends!" the eldest had spoke,

He stared in awe at the forest folk.

He then ran ahead with a noble thought,

"Let's feed them," he said, "let's share what we've got."









They climbed into trees, but frightened the birds,

They chased after the chipmunks saying soft, kindly words.

"This isn't working at all," the younger one said,

"What if we let them come to us instead?"






"Good thinking," said his brother, "we'll stay perfectly still,"

"They'll come to us then, they'll see our good will!"

The birds sang a song for the words he had stated,

And the boys filled their hands with seed, and just waited...






...And waited...













...And waited...

"They're not starving today," big brother pointed out,

"My arm's getting sore; I'm beginning to doubt."

"Let's be patient," said the youngest, "Like Mom always says,"

"Good things always come, if we're patient that is."





With that came a flutter of wings from above,

Wings that agreed with what the children spoke of,

Then the birds came down from the trees to feed,

From the hands of the brothers that were holding the seed.

The brothers were very proud of themselves that day,

And wanted that feeling of joy to stay,

So they promised each other they would always be kind,

And try to keep this lesson of patience in mind.

It Just Grows

It can be amazing or not. Perhaps it's just a weed.
It didn't try to grow, but it did.
From a seed in the ground. Competing for survival.
In a garden where it didn't belong.
i am a weed.
Growing toward the light.