Lingering Life Questions

Where do you live?
Does this place bring out the best of you?

How do you live?
Does your lifestyle give something back to others?

Who have you surrounded yourself with?
Is your social network a true reflection of the real you?

How do you spend your time?
Is most of your time in service to yourself or others?

Who do you believe you are?
Can your life transcend these beliefs
and allow you to be fully present?

I don’t have all the answers–
just a few questions I try to ask myself periodically.

Now or Never

Never a day like today to be who you are
Never a day like today to wrestle reality
from the jaws of illusion–that place we must live
until all illusions are outlived

Today is all we have
Never anything more will we have, even when
we think there is more, and
even when no end of less is in sight

Find today wherever you are
Hug it, hold it, as long as you can
For surely it will give way
to another day, another start and finish

Find yourself before you disappear
into something other than you are
Discover who you’re not, before
who you are ends forever

No matter what
Give today all you have

Preening Doves in Early Morning Light

Two doves preen fluffed feathers in dim early morning light
They ready for breakfast, the start of a new day
A couple, forever committed
Through thick and thin, a pair for life

Like the doves, life’s interwoven paths: happiness and meaning
From happiness…joy, from meaning…connection
For some of us, it must be one or the other
For all, it is each every day in some measure

Not unlike the sun and moon sharing the day
Each brings reflective light to our lives
The sun…nourishing light growing the world around us
The moon, our souls aglow, feeding our inner beings

Some days, we feel lightless
as happiness and meaning play hide and seek
Other days, the sun’s penetrating rays beat down on us
and the moon’s upending tides wash over us

Two doves preen fluffed feathers in dim early morning light
They ready for breakfast, the start of a new day
Like the two doves, such is light in our lives, and
the happiness and meaning growing from that light

In Others We See Ourselves

Met a man just the other day
Who exactly I can’t say
Lost in time, with no plan
Just another hopeless man

A lonely man, walking a distant road
On his back, an unbearable load
Too tired, too worn, to even care
Naked, empty, nothing left to share

A crumpled man, prematurely old
No life it seemed, left to unfold
Passionless, frail, so very thin
No family, friends, next of kin

A man whose life passed him by
No one there to hear his cry
Like all other men, or you or me
Bound to death, can’t break free

His face, so very worn
Darkened eyes, filled with scorn
Face and eyes, lost in time
Life forsaken, without rhyme

Not till at home, did I see
There I heard his desparate plea
For meaning, love and purpose be
Essential things, you would agree

Disturbed me so, this war torn man
Felt his load, my life did scan
Across the room in the mirror
My own life became more clear

His ghost, shadow, phantom be
Strangely now, a part of me
How you ask, can that be
Look in the mirror, you will also see

Giving It a Rest

No knowing it all
or even anything close
No reason to know it all
or even anything close

What’s to know, really?
Anti-intellectual, you say
Not at all–
Just giving thinking a rest

Sit, still the mind
Give your breath your attention
In and out
Again, in and out

Easy does it
No hurry, nowhere to go
Rest, smile, free yourself
No need to hold on–to anything

Feel your inner fire–
Burning brightly
Didn’t know you had one?
We all do, so do you

Get a sense of yourself
Not this or that–
Just yourself–
That which comes before

Let go
Ah, that’s the place
Be! Right there!

Winter’s Soul

Cold winter night
Star-fed sky, reaching upward
Like stairs, we climb
To a higher place–
Beyond where we normally go

Cold winter night
Frozen breath on hard blue lips
Brittle realities, like death
Snap and crack our worlds into pieces
No whole holding them together

Cold winter night
Razor-thin sharp edges on dull faces
Reflecting lost memories back to us
Like moonlight’s cold hands
Gripping our hearts till we surrender

Cold winter night
It comes and finally goes
We survive, this time
Huddled fireside, quiet shadows sit
Slowly, we hear their stories

Giving It a Rest on a Cold January Morning

Some days the hands of the clock race
like speeding rabbits around its face
Other days, they inch along like poking turtles
lulling the clock itself fast asleep

This brutally cold, snowy January morning
time, which we chase each moment, has taken flight
Making its way southward to the land
where the sun shines ever warm and bright

Timeless, spellbound by the lazy falling snow
Desire for a nap overtakes any remaining ambition
to accomplish even the smallest objective
Postponing all races with or against time

January, indeed a time for new beginnings
Also one for hibernation, and
giving birth to dreams that eventually sprout
When later nourished by April’s warm showers

Dreams, latent ambitions, eventually all unfold
as both tortoise and hare within us awaken
and make their way to one finish line, and
ready again for yet another race