Poetry for Scientists
-------------------------------- Tiny drops of water took on tiny grains of sand; one they call the shore, the other the sea, when they gather their forces endlessly. ******* The pyramids were built for shade. ******* There's a race to make the most stuff. Solids, liquids and gasses, that's all. Solids have pulled way ahead, blowing smoke as they go.. Melting ice caps and glaciers are trying to keep up. Don't believe me? Look what we did to the moon. ******* Pivot To pivot in the middle... Caught in our spiral dance, we funnel ever smaller, till only the tiniest of what we are can pass through, That irreducible something is what this is all built upon. So we struggle to go in the opposite direction, expanding into who we are and what we will become, while remaining a coil in the middle. ******* Rings January 1981 It took fifty years to grow this tree, count em. See its circular pictures of the world, offshoot of roots, raindrops and radius. It marries the sun at its center. ******* August 1981 When they say there's a darkness, what they mean is: there's something they don't understand. Light moves too fast to catch all of it. ******* November 1981 The more distant from nature we become, the more dramatic the lessons of wholeness. The further and farther we are out of balance, the more extreme the counterweight will be. ******* "I think therefore I am." It doesn't take much to see that we're all in this together. Should we compare orselves to the sun and sea? What is higher consciousness? In the game of making things real, we grab onto something and say, this means this. And somehow, some way, sometimes, it becomes that. I am, therefore I think. ******* Can Anyone be a Poem? March 1980 A woman standing in line bought, a bag of little chocolate bars, four packs of Luckies, and cough drops. ******* Trenchcoat Collar Up The wind blows a message all understand. The sun doesn't mince words either. But what is it about rain that makes it so mysterious? ******* |
Poems from the Heart
-------------------------------- Is it possible to type in tongues? ******* There's a sea trying to touch its distant horizon; its waves have so far to go. Everything that rides these tides, washes up here. Even the moon has made it to this shore. It bobs perfectly from practice. Or is it the sun reflecting off the ocean off the moon? We are what we reach for. When all is said and done, we can finally rest. ******* Holy Hiding Places Revealed by hidden harmonies, a secret of mine was told. As I listened, questions were answered that I never knew I had. Till this day I listen in that place. ******* In the ever present is where the future lies. Begin anywhere. ******* Prayer August 4, 2000 Why would I pray? Aren't you ageless and boundless? What could my prayers tell you, that you don't already know? Wouldn't it be a sign of mistrust to pray? If you love us, what could go wrong? Much. My prayers demonstrate that I don't understand. The yearnings in our hearts set our direction. We do the best we can and end up somewhere. And although much is hidden, we trust. Through us you get to appreciate the beauty that you are. ******* Photon Text August 3, 2001 The sun confides in planet earth; alphabet protons make up the constant conversation. On waves of laughter, photon bits come playing with the grass, bring words of encouragement to the sea, leave sagas of enlightenment in the mind. When the sun has said everything it needs to, who will carry its messages to other places? If we are good listeners, maybe we get to tell the story. ******* August 11, 2001 The world is a caterpillar with sixteen legs that go nowhere. Feet in opposition, it marches in place. Working together we could become butterflies, eagles! ******* May 24, 2001 Is this a real world? They advise it is illusion. Look for that which sustains it. Is this a transitory place? You may want to appreciate the here and now. Enjoy this real illusion. ******* May 24, 2001 A wonder can fly away with you, can make a person smile tears. In remembering we become magnificent. And still, with all this going on inside, we pretend to forget. ******* |
Observations
-------------------------------- In a Box Under My Bed March 1, 2001 Blue velvet sweeps across my feet as we walk. The royal blue apron draped around the bottom of my aunt's coffin sweeps back and forth making my feet appear and disappear. We've done this before. Church aisles are all these shoes know; births, deaths, weddings. Beginnings and endings leave me watching my feet, again. As if they know the way, we solemnly walk on. Shoes that have lasted lifetimes: mothers, aunts, uncles, friends, strangers. The blue velvet ripples in the sunshine; angelic seraphim who lift us away from this special sadness. ******* Grace March 17, 2001 Yet another Spring comes to steal the frozen heart of Winter. Her way of taking, always leaves more. Spring holds out nothing Winter needs, still it inches curiously closer. The mismatched lovers of the ages: one speaks of morning, the other of night. LIke a child taming a wild beast, Spring will win the Winter's trust. And, in baby steps, its cold heart will melt till there's nothing left but mercy... held by a friend till the end. On the streets of New England these lovers are a dime a dozen. Look how shamelessly she flirts with Summer ahead. ******* Pilgrim March 12, 2001 We went to see Butterfly. She looked into everyone too, as we picked the fruit from her tree. She's to be loved and feared everywhere she appears. She was. No hiding. She revealed it while in Luna. Those who listen don't need to hear, while those who speak are already saved. She went inside with the question; the answer came out: love. "Consider love in everything you say and do." The truth has been said as best it can be. This is the beauty that turns loggers around. A man would have starved to death up there. ******* Special Delivery April 4, 2001 Mother Earth is plump this morning. She has that gleam in her eye. Pregnant with anticipation she swells, discharging her sweet perfume. Trees sprout hair at the scent. She erupts into the party that she is. By evening everyone shows up! There's no words for what's happening here... Little by little she comes up out of herself. ******* Sleeping puppy paws through imaginary fields. Far from dreams, old dog sleeps unmoving, traveling the night sky. ******* Fuel for the Hearth April 25, 2001 Wooden breaths lined up and waiting, soon to be inhaled by my stove, come in flavors: oak and maple. What flavor is yours? ******* |