Wednesday, December 31, 2014


Sun rising
flinging green fire
on flashing leaves

as birds flit
and call to each other
ancient songs of  
lust, warning,

In twisting architecture
they rise,
sure-footed, fleet of wing,

while below I stand,
neck craned,
stiff with gazing.

Back to my room,
I go - back to
my comfortable cave,
my simian

(19 June 2011)

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Royal Presidio Chapel, Monterey California

Pelicans fly at dawn, 
Heavy, unsure of the wind, 
Their hungry cries piercing the sky
Fiercely searching receding waves. 

Ancient sorrow lingers here, 
The stunned saints with fading stigmata
Painted dimly into ever-falling shadow. 

Our Lady of Sorrows wears a black mantilla. Her
cold, glimmering hands clench 
The lace handkerchief Maria Antonia brought. 

Our Lady of Solitude pierces my soul, 
Her face shining forth from layers of death, 
Her astounding eyes glittering with living anguish.

(15 March 1979)

Sunday, December 14, 2014


We must know the truth, and we must love the truth we know. Thomas Merton

On her way to the big dance
my sister patiently waits
for the camera to click.

Her dress is white,
her slender fingers wrapped in
tight, petite gloves,
while top to bottom,
in her brilliant hat and polished shoes
grasping the patent handbag
she glows, so cool
in the autumn sun.

Carefully posed,
her little brothers cluster.

The oldest, just fooling around,
grins slyly
waves his
Lone Ranger cap gun.

The smart boy,
just down the step,
holds his hands in his jacket pocket,
and confidently smiles
for the camera.

But the little one stands apart
in a forest of shifting knees,
close to the ground
steadied by her strong hand.

Mother's long arm
reaches far down
to his slight shoulder,
and her power
still towers above them all
wrapping them in her
safe embrace.

(22 May 2012)

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

fog conceals

fog conceals
winter dark streets
but gently reveals
her tears, her
cold, soft hands,
my mother’s hands
rising from
the waters,
from the fog.

(9 December 2014)

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Lost Soul

“Just as it is impossible for a man to see his face in troubled water, so too the soul, unless it be cleansed of alien thoughts.” Thomas Merton

Soul without light
he screams in anger,

curses his mother
for carving his dying flesh
from her course blood.

His darkness is complete.

He will not see
the sun
though it streams golden
through his open

A prisoner,
he can only gaze
on blighted shade; he cannot stray
beyond the constrained
cell of his narrow

(11 March 2011)