Moon and Sun Love (a poem)

The moon is the queen, sky mother
The sun is the king, sky father
They love and they need each other
I pray, seeking to uncover
The secrets of their true wonder
How they shine, oh, so brilliantly
How they love us, yes, distantly
They make love during their eclipse
See the bright touching of their lips
Their love endures, persistently

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Our Immense Powers (a poem)

Above clouds of grayish-blue
we see a blazing orange sky;
how did we get up here?
we’ve stopped asking why

We desire to see the world
and all its glorious sights,
we travel anywhere we wish
we fly through colorful nights

How did we attain this power?
We really do not know,
we go anywhere at any hour
come with us and we will show.

(Photo by Marek Piwnicki on Unsplash)

An Awful Sight (a poem)

Deep in the woods at night
I came upon an awful sight
a corpse, ashen and stiff
it was quite a terrible fright

The body was by the cliff
and suddenly it did shift
I screamed, ran like hell
my legs moved very swift

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Morning in the Desert (a poem)

Watching the horizon, bright sun rising above
baking the desert this lonely morning

I came here for mystical union, total silence
but the mighty sun cares not this morning

What of the Desert Fathers, who searched for love
retreated to their cells in the morning?

Did they unlock secrets, away from violence
find perfect solitude in quiet mornings?

I’ve read their books, listened to their tales,
but the words escape me this morning

I want my eyes to be removed of scales,
like St. Paul seeing Jesus in the morning

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The Man Made of Smoke (a poem)

The man made of smoke,
he drifts here and there
with his fancy hat
and long black hair

We smell him wherever he goes,
the puff of smoke he leaves behind,
in a blink of the eye, he’s gone,
it truly blows one’s mind

The man of smoke is not wise,
nor is he very handsome,
but, hey, he’s got a special talent,
and for that we all like him.

(Photo by LILAWA.COM on Unsplash)

Held Prisoner (a poem)

I can swear I heard waves,
gently washing on a shore,
but I could not see an ocean,
for I was locked under the cellar door

The wild man put me here,
after pounding my head on the floor,
he danced in the moonlight,
he never told me what for

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Infinite Falling (a poem)

Falling in the bottomless pit,
I start to swim in the air,
at first, I was frightened
but now I don’t care –

There is no end to the falling,
it’s an infinite drop,
I have eternity to think,
the falling never stops –

I’m resigned to my fate,
no God will save me from this,
the falling isn’t so bad,
I’ve come to see it as bliss.

(Photo by Alex Conradt on Unsplash)