No Words (day 2839)

Did you listen when I spoke no words?
I could hardly lean to take flight
Soar away, hide away
Aloof my trail ablaze.

I woke up from a foggy bliss
Tended to my flock,
Stepped into a day of glass
Dew upon my shoe.

When I carried over my heart,
Sealed with each singing bird’s note,
T’was then I had no words to share
No sound to match such pure delight.

Foggy Mirrors (day 2601)

It’s a damn shame
You used to ride around with foggy mirrors
In my largely used mind
Spinning wheels that ran me up
To a hundred miles an hour
Your headlights were my exposé
Dangling freely from the eye
Of my rear view mirror
But now the brakes have been applied
Shifted back down to first
Greens and reds and stop and go
City streets commanding slow

Return (day 1528)

Return my mouth of suffering;
Return to a place where a brook lightly flows,
Where footsteps – delicately laid –
Digress with foggy mountain hillsides
Tangled deep amidst rose bushes,
Willow whips, cedars wide and pine needles fallen.
Return my mind to awake and aware,
Where fluttering wings present
Gusts of wind amidst tiny chatter from illustrious nutcrackers.
Return me to my home –
Nestled among wild things,
For ohana lives there.
Namaskar, Namaskar, Namaskar.

My Mountain in the Rain (day 1280)

My mountain has been falling down,
Leaving holes the size of crowns.
I look to learn the makers name,
But eyes, unblinking, stare through the rain.

Could this new path design the way,
A thousand years been left unpaved.
I cry with every brick to fall,
Towards my future, the Grand Ball.

In my distance I feel no pain,
I shudder lost on through the rain
Amidst clear guidelines and diplomats;
Hidden secrets swept under mat.

Up and up and up my gaze
Fights through the foggy haze,
For as my mountain falls apart
Answers dart from end to start.

Clearly, says I, to my maker, my God,
What has become, why is there blood?
Why are my knees no longer strong?
What force has left my music gone?

Maybe Not Everyday (day 929)

Winter wears it’s colors proudly in this city
Fighting white with tropical greens
Peering around every West-Coast corner
Drab gray peaks and arches
Occasionally peak out from behind foggy haze
Curling around
Northern mountains
Leaving otherwise black vistas
With an icing-sugar like pose
After cold arctic winds
Blow off those quiet days
Maybe not everyday
But on the days it does
You look and smile and reach out
To say hello