Thanksgiving Poem

Thanksgiving Poem, loaf of breadThis poem was written by my partner and lover of 9 years, Ralf. Though english is not his first language, he always had a way with words. (he is German) His spirit taught me so much about attitude and perseverance. He is an old soul. Though we are no longer together, I believe we still have a connection. I am honored and gratified to have been his lover. Thank you, Ralf. With love, David

Happy Thanksgiving to all my friends out there. I hope you have warm, smiling eyes to gaze into and laugh with as you break bread together on this most universal of holidays.

Thanksgiving is a moment to remember
How little we can do to move the stars.
All we are and have we must surrender,
Nor is Earth less inscrutable than Mars.
Knowing this, we know the need for friends
Sharing both our pleasures and our pain,
Giving, though it may not serve their ends,
In joy the love that will our love sustain.
Very much like water in a lake,
In sum we serve as mirrors to the sky.
No one alone can heaven’s picture take.
Given friends, we know the reason why.

by Ralf

Siegfried Idyll

Riesling Grapes, Siegfried Idyll
Go and be the breeze
whispering over grassy
silk waves atop verdant,
elegant hills. Rest there
among the familiar tales
of sun ripe Riesling grapes
pearled along the plunging slopes
of castle views over river Rhine.
Go and taste the resilience
of Teutonic history, rising
and falling against the maelstrom
of Viking invaders. Go and
rebuild from scratch what you
know is good and right. Dwell in
the fecund soil of steady passion.
Find skin by the wind.
Find fruit in your heart.
Taste the lambent anodyne
smiling through
sweet, golden wine.

This goes out to my crushes. You know who you are.

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Airmail Love

vaca-en-we

Sometimes before sleep late at night, I lie in bed
listening to my cats purr as they lick themselves clean
before curling up in a furball as close as possible to me.
I hear the distant roar of the highway, thousands
of cars swishing in a hurry to get somewhere,
perhaps the moon. Maybe they are lonely,
and sad love follows them as fast as they can drive.
Or maybe they’re rushing for an emergency,
a serious accident, or worse. Or maybe they were
working late, and long to get home
to a warm bed, and peace, if nothing else.
I think of my friends all over the world,
living lives with direction, going forward, or not,
friends past, whom I’ve lost touch with,
friends present but distant, thousands of miles away.
I think of all the sad or happy or tragic people
spinning around the planet as it spins across time,
laughing, crying, or lonely, dying,
or perhaps wondering and grateful, as I am.
And I think of you, with your quiet burning
of life with it’s myriad questions.
And I send you a little message. I open my heart
and give you my nurturing thoughts, my hope, my love.
I wish you well, I wish you peace.
By sending an airmail full of good wishes,
I feel lighter as I prepare for sleep under
a fluffy down comforter and two warm furballs.

Digiart by Veach. I think they’re pretty cool. I hope you do too. If you want to see the original piece, click on the image and there you are.

Sparks

sparks
Sparks are the beginning of fires, which warm, protect and guide, or maybe just give us something nice and spacey, a flickering flame upon which to levitate dreams.

Writing this, I guide myself. Reading it, you guide me, and perhaps yourself. We rely on each other. We move en masse, hobbling together through thickets, carrying what light we can find to see. Voices emerge, then recede.

Sparks of emotion can change your path. Sparks of ideas can light the universe. Sparks of distant stars give us dreams.

Listen, watch, trust, repeat. Sparks happen when you least expect.

Sparks can travel the speed of light through these wires, zapping you and moving on. What are sparks to you? Pass this spark on. Light a fire.

And please remember who was your flint. This flint sparked at Liz’s

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Echoes 1

stained glass

Here’s an echo of my past. In the cavernous halls of the blogosphere, it takes time for an echo to come back again…I posted this April 24. How time flies.

An Inch of an Odyssey

An inch of an odyssey takes infinite time
Forever toward it
Forever undone, forever undone, ever undone, undone.
Assuming an end is presuming a beginning.
Look where you’ve been. Look! Can you see?
Now you are wondering “Where on earth am I going?”
Preparing for death frees the wind
to sigh, breathing a soft, new breeze
blowing a tender new bud, unique seedling

Our days and our nights
Swallow each other whole-
Lune lusts for shadow chased Helios.
There is no up, there is no down,
Nor back to the belly, nor the crown.
Only forward we lean to fall, grind, roll,
Heave atop the vanishing moment
Hop the lilting merrygoround.

Maps crumble into soot
pinched thin by greasy fingers
peddling false, painted mirrors.
Furrowed, worn paths fell us safely
To known, well trodden soil, dense, smooth, glossed
Away from the path to the effervescent fields
The path through the marshes, ripe, rank and raw
Away from the path beyond to gardenia festooned hills
There is no end, no beginning
Day and night flashes-
Tingling fragrant sparks
In our hearts.

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