The Cloud

Whether you understand or not, God loves you, is present in you, lives in you, Thomas Merton


The cloud surrounds me.

Unseen, It fills my cells.

Through my fears
it whispers in that deep place
where only whispers can be heard,
where darkness
creases the grey mist
of consciousness.

It shields me
from howling despair
and stays my trembling hand
from sundering
bleak soul
from throbbing heart.

In holy silence
the cloud envelopes my fear
and with lustrous grace
strengthens my will
to persevere.

black mountains

black

mountains

to sharp ridge

rise, deeply piercing

day’s bleeding sky; overwhelming

grave, pale victim, night.

Too Soon

Too soon
rises the sky
to blue perfection.

New grass waves,
uneven rows
unwary of
the leveling blade.

Delicate flowers
unfold
too soon,

and naive birds
in winter-spare trees
sing
like it’s June.

(17 Feb. 2013)

Ash Wednesday

Earth tilts and

winter passes.  

Now is the time

for ashes.

Searing songs

cremate the pain.

Wavering palms

incinerate.

From ash to ash

to God we call.

From dust to dust

we rise and fall,

and reaching high

beyond our grasp

our souls ascend

to brighter paths.

Morning in America

Look down
and see how the valley wakes.

Beneath these rolling ridges,
dark houses steam and cluster
into tight, thin streets,
the morning mist
softly washing
ranks of backyard fences
into spectral smudges
between still, red
autumnal trees.

The city begins again
after its long, November night;
cars and trucks flow
into highways, slowly
edging east into west,
and complete at last
the long, twisted
continental path,
from sea
to trackless
sea

rolling to the dry limit
of the broad Pacific
where no lines restrict and
no heights give a wider view.

They come at last
to the concrete terminus
of America.

Slowly Turns the Earth

With breath of waking
begins summer's day,

first a whisper
and then a kiss.

Mist descends
through glistening leaves;

veils of steam rise
from living streams.

Darkness nearly done,
broad day contends and wins
bright fields of the sun,

'til blazing noon,
(spent heat of youth wilting
to lustrous night) dies.

Then wrapped in starry sheets
again we sleep.

Storm Near Travis

Clouds

glow in

garish light.

Bombers

in the mist

rise

and fade

as ponderous rain

falls

glistening

and leaves

lunge

to winter gardens

flung.

Spring Storm

towers fill the sky
wind-washed, waves surging, seaward -
mountains, living green!

running away, fear
filling the edges of sight;
throat tightens on knives.

hope wanes; vain night fails
never; dawn insinuates
another raw day.

simplicity

unencumbered

like water

flowing through

pure time my

mind climbs to

perfect sky

to the silence

of my heart

to meet you

and know

at last

your simple

will

Sister Moon

sister moon

has come

and gone

winter’s fog

rolls on

and on

Experience

I’ve seen how the darkness
eases into new light.
The summer sun creases
the wan and weary night.

I know of noon’s ways,
harsh rant of glaring rays 
haranguing to passion
the giddy, fevered day.

Then keen delta breeze
the painted sun consumes
and sends vermilion fleece
to greet the rising moon.

Mustard Seeds

The cold wind blows. It buries

black seeds in deep

new snow.

So now is the time

for miracles!

Shedding death’s grip, seeds slip

their leathery binds, pale stems

rise to boundless

blue skies


as at last breaking through
golden leaves unfurl
and life again fills 
this resurgent
world.