The Dove is Silent

In morning
the dove is silent
as the breeze
sweeps
old ideas
now exposed
to the light of day
with the veil of night
lifted
and my eyes
see
for the first time
what my imagination
already
knew.

One Hand Claps

Once a drop in the sea
until  the sun rose
to the radiance
of Easter day
then a quick farewell 
whisked away 
and now a cloud 
as one hand claps
in silence.

Easter Time

He was here
then was gone
in more than a poof
rabbits still hop
in the early morning
dewy grass
and hens cackle
when smooth eggs
are forgotten and
left for children
to gather
after those who knew
first dye the shells
with colors of
soft rainbows
and think thoughts
of long ago
with new ideas
of spring gardens
seed packets
now empty 
and in dark earth
are but summer dreams
of a fiery red tomato
that I bite 
and taste
juicy ripe
sweet life
seedy with a touch
of remembered love
on a hot
august day.

Without a Trace

They no longer read books
long ago 
they used them
as bricks
to build their shelters
and those still stood
although the dwellers
had disappeared
without a trace
as to who they were
yet the brick ruins
held inside
the complete history
of all those that
lived before 
books 
became 
bricks.

I read the iPad oh boy

Staring at  photon glow
my brain connects
with how many I do not know
thoughts unravel
visions of lizards 
seaside walks
a cranky old desert solitary
a long ago paperback 
distant conversations 
Fiji water in plastic bottles
hula girls and swaying palms
then a crow lands in a far north land
a saint-named wanderer 
and jello-like brains 
sizzle and spark
and today I read the iPad oh boy
the Holy Grail of neuroscience 
is consciousness
a trillion synaptic connections
sizzle this morning
as I sip
Japanese 
green tea.

Peter and the Rooster

A rooster crows
with memories of
oh so long ago
three times he did 
cock-a-doodle-do!
and now recalls 
hidden sobs
oh so strange
a greeting to
the breaking of 
what seemed
just 
another day.

Shell Games

It was a puzzle undone
in my mind
it dwelled
each night I returned
only to discover
at the break of day
once holding a shell
snatched
before the wave
crashed onto the sand
a young boy ran
holding prize
in hand.

Walking Pi

I found pi in the sky
when I imagined
fluffy white clouds
between hard earth
and black space
floating in a sea
of blue air
to protect numbers
and ideas
inside minds
that walk the surface
of pi
one
step
at a time.

The Weaver

I, the one
who wove the tale
with mystery weaving
through the fray
with awe inspiring
to all
but those that see
not pattern
woven
before the I.

The Blueprint

In all the universe
everything is but
the right now
and the right here
time and space
right down to 
the building of atoms
from protons
and neutrons
and electrons
elements built
each the same
as if by blueprint
each with potential
to construct
no more
or no less
than the original
plan
allows
possible.

Building Reason

Reason is 
built upon experience
gathered by self
and others who
we think reliable
enough to accept
their rhyme as reason
even though they may
be now but dust
and memory
yet we live life
without experience
because we trust
our gathered reasons
are reliable enough
that we need not touch
the flames to know
that they burn.

He

Smug as could be
he gazed at his plate
with a look of self
satisfaction
that he alone
plowed the field
planted the corn
and summered
through to 
the harvest
and even the moon 
through the window
seemed 
to agree
until his wife
broke the silence
with 
ah-ah-ah-choo!

The Wall

The wall was covered 
with photographs
maybe over a hundred
thumb tacked somewhat haphazardly 
over there scenes of smiling people
in dress of long ago
beside faded Kodacolor prints
of a once vivid Grand Canyon
and teenagers beside hot rods
posing like James Dean
and an elderly couple
with looks of amazement 
standing beside a huge
Mickey Mouse in Disneyland
and I imagined each picture
but one one-hundredth of a second
slices of time captured on film
and I estimated the entire wall
represented a total of
one second 
or maybe two seconds of time
and I wondered 
what happened
to all the other 
time?

Hiding

Trowel in gloved hand
I dig into the earth
to make a home
for the bulb
with yellow daffodil 
hiding inside.

Rock Around the Clock

Solid rock
is the mountain
with all the time
in the world
to await 
a ticking clock
to give it rhythm
a beat in time
to rock
around
the clock.

I Once Wondered

I once wondered  
how far is far  
for then   
the earth was flat  
and all I had  
was my imagination  
but then I studied  
science and things  
that could fit  
in my pockets  
atoms and neutrinos  
and all sorts of things  
invisible to my eyes  
yet known to my brain  
and no more was   
the earth flat  
when I discovered  
that it was the universe  
all along  
that was flat  
and the earth round  
and my mind  
infinite.  

What is, Is

What is, is
and never was
and never will be
for is
is stuck
forever now
until a mind
with memory
and thoughts
can put 
it all
together.

Carbon Talk

Stars are the factories
where protons are smitten 
denser and denser
until the time has come
to release the new creations
with graphite
to talk
marks on paper
carbon given voice
to the universe
and life
remembers
for as long
as stars
shine
in the night
sky.

In Silence

And right now
somewhere 
on the other side
of the universe
it is snowing
on a dead planet
with no one 
to behold the beauty
of the snowflakes
they fall
in silence.

In the Garden

Was it rude of me
biting into your apple
that you claimed
before I plucked it
from the apple tree
or were we partners
in crime
you worm and me
taking tasty bites
of apple's flesh
as if neither
you nor I
knew the difference
between 
good 
and
evil?