Posted by: Lisa | September 30, 2014


I sense you there
in the distance –
flowing eternally,
calling gently.
You soothe
my endless yearning.
a love that calls
for death.

Posted by: Lisa | September 28, 2014


Clumps of white rose
petals strewn upon
red brick path –
of yesterday’s wedding.
Hopes and Dreams
blossomed here.

I turn and take
narrow, winding
earthen path –
of this moment’s calling.
Steps and Breath
present here.

Posted by: Lisa | September 27, 2014


swoops in
before me,
wings rustling
the wind.
Light footsteps
barely brush
fertile earth.
Feathers fluff,
eyes take in all.
A quiet, gentle
spirit is.
Then beak jabs
soft ground -
some small snake
Heron shakes
and shakes
his head
to effect
sure death.
A good meal
on a clear day.

Posted by: John | September 22, 2014

This Little Cub

John cub 1

I have two years on this little cub….
This little cub and I,
we’re still able to fly.
This little cub and I,
we can still make it into the sky.
With this little cub,
I’m still willing to try.

Posted by: Lisa | September 21, 2014


“Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”  –Henry David Thoreau

Recline upon the earth
gaze upon blue sky
breathe with the clouds
thin, white, layered
floating one way
opposite way
and a tiny wisp
hurrying to catch up

See into a realm
hear rustling leaves
know the Presence
true, sure, holy
always within
pure souls
with endless love
given not counted

Rest the tired mind
open the heart
trust what is seen
Heaven is everywhere
Just look and believe

Posted by: John | September 16, 2014


If you don’t benda
your agenda,
you could enda.

Posted by: John | September 11, 2014

Under Canopy

Skydiving. I’ve made eight static line jumps and one tandem free fall. So I’ve been under canopy.

I’d like to be under canopy,
just the sky and me.
Think of all I’d see.
Maybe then I’d be free.

Posted by: John | September 10, 2014

Webster’s Days

During meditation, the first thing to come out of a crack between thoughts is usually a metaphor:

In the time before Google
when Webster was king,
it took much longer
to find anything.

Posted by: John | September 9, 2014

Pushing the Broom

Here I go pushing
the thoughts aside
thru my kaleidoscope mind
on a magic carpet ride
to my third eye
in the sky

Posted by: John | September 1, 2014


In every human endeavor
it seems the means
becomes more important
than the end.
We evolve faced
with challenges –
physical or
mental or
spiritual –
then a control freak
emerges, demands
things be done his way.
Everyone else follows –
out of fear or
laziness or
whatever –
until someone seeks
another way.
There begins a revolt
with new answers.
And on and on and on.
We lose track
of the end.

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