They tell us to hold steady,
keep the ground firm,
but the ground itself shifts—
silent adjustments beneath
the weight of old decisions.
Change rolls in like the tide,
deliberate, insistent;
some brace against the swell, while
others dive into its forward pull.
......
The quiet of stillness
Offers tranquility
Soothes the spirit
Reaches deep inside
One has to listen carefully for it
The quiet of stillness
......
In shadows deep where silence starts to creep,
The weight of striving drapes like heavy mist.
A clock unwinds, its hands in thoughts that sleep,
Yet echoes shout of goals that can’t be missed.
With heavy hearts, the weary wander home,
Each sigh a ghost of burdens barely shed.
The stillness cracks, like ice beneath a dome,
As fates collide—the old self’s left for dead.
......
I was for long an active art enthusiast, with a special passion for still lifes,
As the roving, scarlet sun, develops late passion for the bustling nightlife.
I was ofttimes in large art museums, and I had traveled this whole world,
Always looking for another beautiful work, like lustrous moonlight pearls.
I zealously hunted lovelies by day, but I was a wide eyed, night owl, too,
As bright meteors turn into shooting stars, then disappear from our view.
My fabulous family shared in my zeal, and we often compared artworks,
......
I was a learned meteorologist, studying azure atmosphere and vivid weather,
To give a prophetic daily forecast, like bees gliding remote locales of heather.
Often I had to issue advisories and warnings, like a jumbo roar of yellow lion,
So plans could be made and trouble avoided, until a new, lemon-gold horizon.
I also gathered much data to share, like enlightening ambles in green nature,
Where each beauty bloom's a true eyeopener, maroon scented ones so major!
Forests wore foxgloves, freesia and forget-me-nots, and friends came to call,
......
They tell us to hold steady,
keep the ground firm,
but the ground itself shifts—
silent adjustments beneath
the weight of old decisions.
Change rolls in like the tide,
deliberate, insistent;
some brace against the swell, while
others dive into its forward pull.
......
In shadows deep where silence starts to creep,
The weight of striving drapes like heavy mist.
A clock unwinds, its hands in thoughts that sleep,
Yet echoes shout of goals that can’t be missed.
With heavy hearts, the weary wander home,
Each sigh a ghost of burdens barely shed.
The stillness cracks, like ice beneath a dome,
As fates collide—the old self’s left for dead.
......
I was a learned meteorologist, studying azure atmosphere and vivid weather,
To give a prophetic daily forecast, like bees gliding remote locales of heather.
Often I had to issue advisories and warnings, like a jumbo roar of yellow lion,
So plans could be made and trouble avoided, until a new, lemon-gold horizon.
I also gathered much data to share, like enlightening ambles in green nature,
Where each beauty bloom's a true eyeopener, maroon scented ones so major!
Forests wore foxgloves, freesia and forget-me-nots, and friends came to call,
......
I was for long an active art enthusiast, with a special passion for still lifes,
As the roving, scarlet sun, develops late passion for the bustling nightlife.
I was ofttimes in large art museums, and I had traveled this whole world,
Always looking for another beautiful work, like lustrous moonlight pearls.
I zealously hunted lovelies by day, but I was a wide eyed, night owl, too,
As bright meteors turn into shooting stars, then disappear from our view.
My fabulous family shared in my zeal, and we often compared artworks,
......
Mauve sun is rising
far across the frothy sea
From mists emerging
at the edge of the blue world
and the pause of dusky night
Destination noon
and blithe before and after
Headed everywhere
In the quiet room of time
......