Matters of the Heart

The Dove

Relief breaks across my heart like waves upon a sandy shore,

The struggle that I could not fight has left to trouble me no more.

Before the face of certain death, I stood alone, unarmed and proud,

My heart resigned for what should come, a living, beating burial shroud.

The treasure of my inner soul, the light which shines within my sky,

The one I love above all else, had threatened from my world to fly.

What chain, what grasp, what anchoring weight, could I attach to such a one,

When love requires open hands, and she must fly free in the sun.

And so no harsh or angry words, no pleading for a time to come,

Could pass my lips, but only this, "I love you, till my life is done."

And so set free, my love did soar, a gentle flapping towards to air,

And just before she passed from sight, she paused and turned with grace so rare.

And back into my life she flew, a shy, unsteady, halting flight,

And to my open hands she came, and set my life and heart aright.

Once again.

The Open Road

Once again the dusty road,

leads before me to the dawn.

Once again the unknown calls,

Daylight comes, I must be gone.

Time to fly

 Stardust

 

We are the souls of dying stars

Cooling til no spark remains.

Within us lies the source of light

If we but try to glow again.

Like flares across a moonless night

We once again can soar and shine

The cost is only to ignite

and burn into a fiery rain.

Let not the fear of burning out

hold back your spark or stop your flight

For if you fail to pay the cost,

You fall unsung through blackest night.

Round and round we go.

 Cycles

Round and round the wheel spins

time to pass and come again

Weaving fate and weaving chance

Twirling in an endless dance.

Things they come and things they go

yet come again, the mystic knows

Passing down across the years

All our trials, all our fears.

Reflections

Night in the Desert

It's two am, the heat has died
The wind blows dry and sweet
The moon, a pearl, in the sky
Warm sand around my feet.

What dreams may come

Thoughts on a young race

What will we be in days to come
When threads of time slip round the sun
Will we still fight for hearth and home
Or will we stretch our minds and run?

What will we be when we grow old
When knowledge breaks through passion's hold?
Will we expand through space so cold
With wings of dreams and hearts of gold?

Will we put off our foolish ways
Of death and doom and pointless praise?
Or will we end in early days?
And never unto glory raise?

Like a not so rolling stone

This Rock

This rock has sat
through wind and rain
through sun and shade
and yet does not complain

This rock was born
in pressure and in stress
in heat and in destruction
and yet sites at perfect rest

This rock was rough
Time has worn it's edges
Nature has polished it's flaws
We could all learn
from this rock.