Days Ahead

Days Ahead
I turned over the calendar on the first of June
And saw days numbered in front of me
Thirty days until my life changes--again.

Days ahead
Marching in orderly rows
As orderly as they'll ever be
Soon will become chaos
As they're lived, reused, milked for memories
Until, tired, they're thrown into the past

Thirty days becomes twenty-four
And twenty four will turn to ten
And ten to one,
And one to zero,
And then the memories will come
Hard and fast,
Two years' worth of days will be milked,
Sapped, until, dry and worthless,
They will be thrown away
While dim memories,
Wispy shades
Are all that's left.

Earthquake

Earthquake
Quiet ticking of the clock,
No chimes, just telling the time,
Early morning, before the sunrise.
Deep below the earth
Where the molten rock flows
A shifting ridge
And above where the cold river flows
A tremor starts--
It shakes the buffalo in their stalls
Shakes the house in the village
Shakes the apartment in the city
Shakes the beds and the clock
Ticking on.
The tremor starts, and still--
Quiet ticking of the clock,
no chimes, just telling the time,
Early morning before the sunrise.
But the doors still swing from the shaking.

Sound

Sound
I woke this morning to rain on my window
Two friends talking outside
Car trying to get past the dirt road
Churning up puddles in its wake.

Now the rain is a dull roar
And the friends are gone
And if the car isn't stuck in the mud, it's still going somewhere.

The river rushes by in an angry roar
But if you listen closely,
You may hear the lapping of waves on the shore.
The stream gurgles
Channeled into a ditch,
Into a hole.

Give Thanks

Give Thanks
Thanks for the trees, the hills, the clouds
The grass, the valleys, the sun--
Thanks for the world around me.

Thanks for the light, the interests, the people
The for the dark, the rest, the solitude--
Thanks for the day and night.

Thanks for the songs, the words, the dance
The speech, the silence, the quiet--
Thanks for the hush and the clamor.

Thanks for the sights and the sounds and the smells
The tears and the smiles, the places in my heart
Thanks for two homes, Father, I thank You
For giving me a world.

Memory

Memory
Association and memory go hand and hand
Down the path of life--
The sight of a plant
Is the story of a game;
The smell of rain
Is the time I watered and then it rained;
The touch of velvet or felt
Is riding in the car on Christmas Day;
The sound of a song
Recalls my heart to my dream world.

Walking down the path of life,
Association and Memory turn,
I run towards them--calling, "Wait!"

Out the Window

Out the Window
Mary, Mary, red-haired Mary,
Sitting at the window of your prison,
Embroidering on white linen
The emblem of Stuart;
What are you thinking, Mary?
What troubles your mind?
The misty rain falls over the land
Mary Seton lights a lamp.
Out the window it's free,
Out the window...

Mary, Mary, red-haired Mary,
Brave and strong until the end,
What's on your mind,
Lying on your bed awake?
Is there an unfinished task,
Could you rest?
The misty rain falls over the land
Mist of servant's tears.
Out the window is another place.
Out the window...

Wait for the Morning

Wait for the Morning
The day grows hard and long
Night settles in with opression
Ready to crush your life away
Wait for the monring's dew
It shall not be long in coming.

Wait for the morning
When the sun wakes up,
Fresh, with a scrubbed face
And the day is clean,
New.

Wait for the morning
When the dew falls and washes the world

In the meantime, rest your head
The moon will soothe you to sleep.
Rest your weary head
Let the stars enter your eyes
To shine, even in day.