It is in the fullness of the journey of our life that we begin to understand the true meaning of the smallness of our place in the lineage of life. As we look forward and back, it becomes apparent that our actual contribution is not the material things we gather. But instead, our the accumulation of contribution to the building of the future through those we help, teach, and our progeny which constitute the path into the future.
A storm forced sea batters
Kelp obscured cliffs.
The frosty mist,
Deluge the whistling rock
And mortar cone walls.
In the distance,
A single powerful light is seen,
Flooding the sapphire blues of the water.
Like a mother’s soothing hand
On the back of the belligerent child
that is the sea.
A single structure
Standing in the middle of a raging sea.
Stone walls and bright light.
It leaves you wondering…
It leaves you wanting…
What mysteries do you house?
What wonders fill you?
A solitary door looms,
Like a single guard daring you to enter.
“Enter at your own peril!”
It seems to scream.
Inside, spiral stairs,
Twisting and turning like a sea-monster
Lead to rooms of glass walls.
With rotating lighting unit,
In its center,
And a walkway made of stone as old as time,
Your hands, laid on intricate artwork made of metal…
You stare out.
From the solace of the lighthouse.
The sailor’s guiding light pierces,
Through fog saturated night air,
Showing a Squall’s violently,
To one side, a cove,
Whose beaches go undisturbed.
Behind the cliff gates,
Atop which stands a silent guardian.
These waters are as treacherous as they are beautiful.
Swallowing sailors, old and green alike.
The guardian does not rest.
He takes no day off.
For fates rest in his hands.
The guardian makes the difference between life and death
Cool winds blow,
Cross the frost.
A golden crest blossoms,
Painting the land anew,
the day breaks
Bled reddish dawns
On mountain tops.
in their slumber.
Rivers cried their mirrors
inside the endless fields
timeless morning came
to bring the temple
of dreams to life
filled all my scars
with warmth and love,
as our souls sung
by every angel
in the sky.
Blinded by the black
that was, the memory
of past grew silent.
And in that solitude
a whisper rose
above the stone
to call me home.
The silence that echoed the room
Where kids initially will equip
The board staring so deep at me
It’s slates as empty as the wind
The playgrounds look scattered
Though it has experienced many laughs
Of kids who wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye
The summer is here am alerted
The streets to school looks deserted
The salesmen left their counter
For no one to commend their burger
Now dust finds its solace
All over the walls, even the stairways
The pipes will rest in peace
For no one to remove its clips
The sport complex
As dry as an empty can
Even the pool is without waters
For every swimmer is home for summer
The kitchen where loads of kids do gather
The rats in there now have their festivals
For no one will dare pass by
Not even a pot can dare stop them
The red bricks stand so rigid
Even though empty breath lies within the bricks
The building lies fallow, just for this bit
For very soon, new life it will receive
When off from summer the kids return bit by bit
Now Mary Kay’s spirit will rise.
O’ city majestic as man’s elusive dreams. Walls towering of concrete, and glass. Streets, and subways carry life’s blood. borders reach beyond range of eye.
Spawned of man’s labors you stand defiant of time. as light reflects from your walls. in this moment of glory, your creation is man’s finest hour.
Of late you have aged. now walls crumble upon the streets. air thick of smog and waters run foil lack of man’s labors has spawned a destruction that only the gods can surpass
|Publication Form||Publication Name||Publisher||Year|
|Hardback Book||PEGASUS||National Poetry Press||1978|