up in the air…

how many
prophets
preach
this way
to
heaven
how many
candles
must
be lit
to
find peace
how many
silent
tears
are shed
while
alone
how many
voices
fill
night air
with
prayers
how many
cold nights
can
one heart
beat
alone
how many
prayers
are
raisins
in
the sun

preparing for death…

as aunt bea
and
i
were leaving
the grocery store
a young man
from the gym
and
health spa
next door
was standing
beneath
one of those
easy-up tents
encouraging
passers-by
to visit their facility
for
a free
physical make-over
noting
how
such
a program
could provide
a rebirth of youth
aunt bea
said
there comes
a time
young man
when
you have
to admit
that the mainspring
is busted
and
no amount of winding
is going
to make
the clock
run any longer
best to
just
enjoy each tick
or
toc
as a beautiful day
one
at a time

thoughts before knocking…

some doors
are

always closed
no one
dare
enter
nor
seriously consider
what lies
just
beyond
the threshold
other doors
are
partially opened
to
let those
passing by
admired
what lies
just
out of reach
so as to
fill their dreams
at night
but
a few doors
are swung
wide-open
inviting
all travelers
of
this life
welcome
and
a place
to rest
one’s weary
soul

looky loos for peace…

looky-loos-for-peace

move along
don’t dillydally
there’s
nothing
to see
today’s
bloody words
of hate
won’t
debate
so
there’s
no need
for stares
or
prayers
just count
the graves
along
the way
if you need
something
to do
that makes
your journey
shorter
but know
those graves
are not
from today
but
from
the wars
of
yesterday
move along
hope
for peace
does not
belong
along
a freeway
of greed