And one day while
a giraffe was crossing
a bridge he heard
a squeak looking waaaaay
down at his hoof
certain that he’d stepped
on something he saw
a gray field mouse
cowering in the corner
Why are you crying
small one he asked
Be be because *squeak*
I’m alone And why
are you alone mouse
Because I wandered far
How far is far
asked the giraffe Faaaaaaar
*squeak squeak* Here mouse
climb up my legs
and onto my back
for your faaaaaar is
much nearer for me
than it ever will
be for you just
tell me to stop
And after one prance
and one skip and
one canter the gray
field mouse was home
Sometimes in our lives
what seems so far
away to us is
so very very near
to others never be
afraid to *squeak* when
you see a giraffe
Category: Love
Easter
And it is Easter
A day of celebration
and of joyful resurrection
But resurrection isn’t a
miracle resurrection can happen
in the smallest things
a dandelion emerging between
sidewalks a phone call
from a thought to
be lost friend and
a morning hello from
some stranger resurrection simply
means rebirth a mulligan
a do over and
another try at being
our very best selves
despite our past darkness
Destiny’sVoice
In life we tend
to step into bigger
shoes rather than outgrowing
the old ones A
goldfish only grows to
the size of its bowl
A persons eyes are
usually bigger than their
stomach The point being
look forward for destiny
walk towards that voice
beckoning you for that
voice is your voice
way out there somewhere
FindingLove
Am I too old
to find love again
Is the discovery of
love reserved for the
young and foolhardy who
skip leap and bound
headlong with nary a
care about tomorrow or
is love reserved for
middle age like a
table for two in
a fancy bistro next
to a window offering
sights of Parisians passing
while sipping a Cabernet
Where do the old
find love once again
Perhaps love for people
like me is found
on narrow orchard paths
in late Autumn amidst
plump apple trees basking
in what’s left of
summer’s warmth and remembering
what foolishness love was
Life
Spinning and spinning around
and so goes life
twirling dancing and throwing
as cavalierly as fall
leaves as insignificant as
snow flurries and bumping
into each other like
revelers in mosh pits
This is this thing
that we call life
No rhyme nor reason
although we try to
assign it some degree
of significance but really
all that is constant
is the waltz that
we see every day
between sun and moon
