the turning time

there's an aspen on my street

unusual at these heights

so near the sea

it stands tall and proud

a stranger in a strange land

of maples and ginkgo and dogwoods

all summer i watch the breeze

dance gaily through the leaves

singing a sighing song

of rocky mountains far away

still green and lush they wave

while distant cousins grow pale

and drift down in silent splendor

to the frozen ground

each year i think i'll watch

as green turns into gold

see the sap draw back the life

bury deep the hope of spring

year after year i wake

one day at the turning time

to a sudden flame of yellow 

as if overnight the leaves changed

but this year it's different

the tips away up high

begin the glowing journey

i see the progression coming

as winter soon draws nigh

do you want to get well?

this phrase has been lurking just below the surface of my mind, like the scoby in the bottom of a bottle of kombucha. every so often the bottle gets shaken and the sediment spins up clouding the clear liquid and the thoughts surrounding this phrase obscure everything else i'm seeing. 

do you want to get well?

the voice that asks is kind. it's not a mocking or ironic question, as observers might think. after all, you're asking a cripple if he wants to walk. does a blind man want to see? is the sky blue? such an obvious question anyone might say. and if you were sitting by that still pool you might think, as that man did, that the kind eyes of the questioner doesn't see why you aren't the first into the pool so you might explain why you haven't been healed.

do you want to get well?

i've tried. i've done the 12 steps. or i've seen so many different physicians. a new diet every year. my jeans are worn through from kneeling. but i don't seem to get there. that old habit keeps tripping me up. i'm waiting on Him to fix me. someday it will all work out. has your issue become your identity?

do you want to get well?

the question probes deeper than the explanations or excuses. the pool was crowded that day. full of people who had learned to live with disappointed hope. getting well means the wholeness, no excuses. go and sin no more. 

noise

the noise comes loud the noise comes soft

i cannot stop the noise from deafening

a thousand voices clamoring

for me to be some way

as years increase the decibels match

the demands escalate in step

i'm too much or not enough

but mostly just me

the pervasive lie behind the noise dictates

the change will win for me acclaim

the crowd with love my name

whatever it may be

i wrap a cloak of apathy to shield me from the pain

to try and stay true to my way

resist the camouflage

but it's in vain

passion is pain and life is pain so they say

regardless of the road i take

i must make a stand

choose this day

the way i walk is solitary in this forest dim

i have not found a soul to join

to be unique takes strength

and lonely courage

in the end it's not my choice to shout

i want not my own words

to make some lasting noise

let glory be my voice

risk

I sit beneath the soft moonlight

I cannot see so far

yet what I see is clear as dusk

and heavy as a scar

another dream has turned to rust

I shudder at the chill

to think of what there might have been

if I had climbed that hill

the walls around my dead-end way

seem silent as the grave

until I glimpse another’s path

and how I might behave

in daylight’s green unhealthy hue

life seems to be unfair

until I wake beneath the glow

find sober thoughts are there

so struggle on I know I must

leave envy to the rear

alone or not one path I’m given

to shine reflected here

the risk is great each passing hour

to love to leave to stay

a simple word a gesture strong

and fears could melt away

but moments pass and silence stays

perhaps it’s for the best

no one can know what each day brings

beneath this moon I’ll rest

unless someday the question comes

I’ll know then what to do

until my heart has found a home

to one thing I’ll stay true

it's fall again

will you come with me past the old oak tree

where the shivering aspen stand

when the frosty breeze stirs up the leaves

we can walk together hand in hand

as the shadows grow there are things you know

that I long to hear spoken softly

let the dying day whisk your cares away

give your heart to me so freely

it's the time of year when the end is near

and your soul feels the weight of time

with a dying grace and a warm embrace

we can find the sad sublime

the leaves that fall from the trees so tall

tell of glories that are past

of long summer days far from winter's gaze

and the shadows that it casts

I wonder still when I feel the chill

how my heart can thrill with pain

thinking of your smile that you shared awhile

though you never come again

in this season's change with its weather range

my emotions ebb and flow

and though lonely now I find hope somehow

something buried deep will grow

periphery

it's hiding just outside

the limits of my view

I'm sensing but not seeing

like something I forgot

but never quite remembered

I grasp at aural light

concretely insubstantial

I wake with vague discomfort

false scenes disturb my rest

these moments never happened

left emotions strongly felt

if I went right the way was left

and so I doubt my path

a million tiny options gnaw

it's not regret I whisper soft

insidious voice is more

what ifs pristine and white

cloud castles in the air

like stories shortened early

they might have ended well

instead of endless epics

that tell of failures vast

I wish when lights are dim

this feeling I could shake

accept my lot the one I chose

and leave the rest to God

walk with me

sometimes the way is damp

although the stream is dry

and when I hope for some kind word

the people pass me by

the trees that shade the sun

breathe chillness in the air

and though I long for warmer days

fall's coming everywhere

when down the path I ran

you lagged a ways behind

but when I slowed you sped ahead

what did you have in mind

the faces through the years

some stay while others go 

if winter's frost were tempered down

they could relax I know

the road can stretch for miles

so lonely is the way

my steps don't match the friends I've had

and I've no place to stay

but in the stillness deep

the whisper still can come

the narrow path is worth the risk

the ending lies at home

kitten daze

their little paws 

wrap round my heart

and though I try

I can't but start

to fondly think

of their cute eyes

and all the ways

that they surprise

with feisty jumps

and muted trills

from fighting rough

to making spills

their little claws

have made my arms

a maze of red

as they do harm

yet still I pet

their softest fur

and hold them close

and feel them purr

into my eyes 

they gaze to say

we've got you now

we'll have our way

glimpses

i'm right i'm sure

and here again

until i see

your face and cringe

no matter how

i try to be

i cannot win

your sympathy

for others feel 

your softest gaze

yet never can

i bend my ways

enough to be

who you desire

to earn your love

avoid your ire

you're not the first

won't be the last

while i have breath

i can't get past

to be myself

to please someone

the paradox

can't overcome

i pause and gaze

up at the sky

the evening stars

are standing by

i hold my heart

then let it go

safe in the thought

of what i know

someday i'll find

that i can be

all that i dream

eternally

solitary song

i turned a corner suddenly

the streetlight wasn't there

i listened as the summer breeze

spoke laughter in my ear

not knowing that the hours past

were full of empty toil

when winter winds come soon

the autumn fruit to spoil

year on year of working

a quest for wealth or fame

days not worth remembering

and they forgot my name

i looked in vain for glowing

to see the way to take

my path is not so clear

the choice is mine to make

the keys beneath my fingers

a lonesome song do sing

the words a melody

that means a different thing

i play alone in darkness

obscurity my friend

and sometimes hear the whisper

of how my story ends

uncertain times

pieces of color patched together

noises and horns distracting voices

things i forgot to do

the morning is over the day almost gone

maybe tomorrow something will come

i'll remember what

items in order on small scraps of paper

litter the table and fill up the basket

lists i should get done

thirty seconds a drop and another one passes

videos of humour and other folk's lives

maybe i can skip that

closing my eyes as the summer sun sets

wondering if the road leads anywhere soon

i'd like to know

empty long days interspersed with flashes

moments of beauty i'm caught unawares

somehow i'll make it

folding my fingers to see just a glimpse

perspective beyond these restless hours

i'm almost there

maybe what lasts isn't measured by numbers

currency of legacy in different weights

things i hope to see

feeling the heavy settle into my chest

while lightly i tread through uncertainty

now i'm letting go

blue day sunshine

it's summer now

the bee proclaims

as lazily he flits

from blade of grass

to flower bright

and all the bluebirds sing

the robin finds

a tasty worm

as tender berries ripen

the hummingbird

sips nectar sweet

with wings as fast as lightning

I drink it in

the long warm days

that whisper endless idylls

the nights of dreams

what-might-have-beens

that fade away by morning

but in the wind 

I sense a note

this moment cannot last

the days grow short

midsummer's past

and winter's round the corner

why is it so

in joyful times

my heart a shadow feels

though sunlight's strong

and breezes sweet

I cannot rest for long

it's summer now

the bee proclaims

yet in my eyes is fall

the rain that comes

the winter brings

and all the birds are gone

put it off

i'm out of time

or so i say

and put it off

from this today

the thing can wait

i'll do it when

tomorrow comes

it's fine 'til then

the whisper soothes

the day flies by

full of stuff

i'd rather try

a day a year

it comes and goes

words unwritten

tv shows

i'm older now

the hair is grey

and still i say

maybe today

it's all i have

this here and now

to paint the sky

and change somehow

the page is blank

and so i stare

in hopes my thoughts

will find somewhere

but nothing comes

and so i sigh

tomorrow waits

until i die

Adieu St Stephens

the winter sun glows kindly

through coloured windows soft

panes testify to ages past

130 winter suns come and gone

the dust shivers on sturdy beams

as the organ plays one last song

temporary braces still standing strong

as voices pass into memories

who will remember the passion

pews retired to halls and gardens

partitioned rooms where choirs sang

altars whisper of vows forgotten

the eve of the end casts shadows

can an empty space hold pain

once full of hope and life

now reduced to begging favours

the door shuts slowly firmly

what fills one and not another

keep the lamp stand in the midst

bring your first love home

this new year

it sits like a blank page before me

this new year

hopes and fears are in the wings

shrouded by mist

a thousand options crowd my way

where will I go

the path I take is hidden now

someday seen

I waver between joy and dread

what comes next

many years have come and gone

a mixed bag

I take up my pen to write the start

this new day

come triumph or tragedy I know

not alone