Poetry: Literature that evokes a concentrated imaginative awareness of experience or a specific emotional response through language chosen and arranged for its meaning, sound, and rhythm.
Here now are the realms of wonder. Yet I forget, I fall out of presence. I fall back Back into myself, back into the broken world system, back into the dysfunctions of my mind Dysfunctions of my understanding about what is true. Eating again of the wrong tree, That tempting fruit of the tree of … More Walking in the Realms of Wonder
I walked along golden hills still with spring green. I past along a mended fence. The fences both new and old marched along that road speaking much of times great flight. But louder still did the fields speak and that lone house on the hill. It spoke of time and toil. It spoke of … More House on the hill
Deep in the muck and the mud and the mire I began to be formed long before the fire. At first I was dry, lifeless and void, nothing of value or goodness; abhorred. But for the hands of the potter supreme who made me and formed me and molded me to be a vessel of truth and purity, a vessel of usefulness and integrity. From the muck and … More Song of the Clay
Well I have heard enough and I have seen enough and I know enough to know. I know a good thing when I’ve seen it and it’s a bad thing to let go. I have been around, I have been up and down, until I am bent out of control. If your worlds all in motion … More I have seen enough to know.
mist hangs above the hills above mist hangs stone face of mountain above mountain face hangs a net of sky- crack! there are wings and they rip the net! and the Dance flows on everything flows toward the rim of that shining cup crossed sticks lie on earth between crossed sticks-pile of ash … More No footprints when we go
Black heart, Cold flesh, Surely there must be a stench For he has been dead for some time. Master comes. “Did I not tell you that if you belived you would see the glory of God, Lazarus come forth”! © 1997 wmp. Oak Street Santa Rosa
. To know my rest is a blessed thing, Known only by the humblest of kings. For in my rest you are laid low, Your life upon my alter you sow. So place yourself within my care, Your worries all; your fears laid bare, I then will see your heart as true, And all my … More To know my rest
works of words 