Mosaic Transformation of a Shattered Sacramental Wine Bottle

Sanguinis Christi’s bottle shattered here
Where sinner’s feet scuff by in filthy haste
There’s nothing for the masses to revere
There’s only broken glass and bits of waste
And yet, the glass reflects the purest light
Though it may never hold his blood again
One sinner’s spirit sees a different sight
A master of mosaic, finding Zen
He takes each piece within his humble art
He washes each with water, makes them clean
The shards of each and every broken part
To build the beauty only he has seen
From this, Sanguinis Christi’s shattered form
Iconic art becomes the master’s norm.

Close Apart

Another day is spent too far apart
And yet our hearts can feel each other, near
More close than beauty ever comes to art
Or warmth and wetness comes to every tear
And yes, although my tears are warm and wet
When I can feel your heart so far away
I love to feel the love I can’t forget
I love to write the words I want to say
You bring me peace and beauty, strength and grace
Within my gentle dreams with joys of life
Like cheerfulness illuminates your face
I love to bring my dreams to you, my wife
Our hearts can be together, in our dreams
Eternity is closer than it seems

Sand, Oyster, and Pearl

True, sand is small, but causes oysters pain
It finds its way into an oyster’s heart
Although it may be just a tiny grain
Intrusion means a precious pearl will start
To oysters, sand is small, and yet it’s rough
And so they coat the sand with something smooth
The layers of their coating is enough
To blanket little blemishes, and soothe
The oyster’s pain; it’s how a pearl is made
From something small that causes such great pain?
Will sand embark on such an escapade?
Or does the oyster seek the tiny grain?
If pain can cause a precious pearl to form
Perhaps my pain is just a sandy storm.

Potomac Lovers

Still lovers, though we’ve never seen La Seine
Potomac lovers, where her waters run
Through little, forest streams that start with rain
That grow in warmth like trees beneath the sun
Our love together grows like every tree
Beside the runs that feed Potomac’s flow
Beside you here is where I want to be
Where love, like trees, will always want to grow
I know they say La Seine gives Paris love
I hope Parisians love their river’s grace
Potomac’s strength is what I’m dreaming of
I wouldn’t trade it for another place
The strength of lovers, by the river’s side
Can sense the pull of Love’s persistent tide.

Seeking After That Sweet Golden Clime

This sonnet is an allusion to William Blake’s poem “Ah! Sunflower” which is one of the most beautiful, divine Poems in the English language.

First posted on March 28, 2011

The quietness of solitude’s divine
There’s beauty in the peace of holding still
Alone, I climb my mountains, where I pine
The noise of my desire proclaims my chill
Arising from my grave, I wish to go
Where Ah! Sunflower counts the steps she takes
She said, “I love you.” I replied, “I know.”
But now my heart despises my mistakes
Before I was reborn, before I died
The life I lived, I’ve learned, was fraught with pain
Inflicted by that chill that I deride
The damages have healed, but scars remain
That Golden Clime is where I want to be
It’s sweet and quiet, and it beckons me.

Recording of the short story, Ah! Sunflower

mp3 of the song Ah! Sunflower

William Blake : Ah! Sunflower

Ah! sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun,
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller’s journey is done;

Where the youth pined away with desire,
And the pale virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves and aspire;
Where my sunflower wishes to go.

William Blake (1757-1827) P. 1793

The Ace of Diamonds

The Ace of Diamonds focuses my view
Although its perfect facets seem surreal
It shines with brightness that I never knew
Would find a way to show me what I feel
That diamonds wait below our common ground
We walk on brilliance everywhere we go
And if we ever stop to look around
We’ll find our treasure on a high plateau
But getting up the hill may seem intense
And as we climb we may forget the fact
Our feet tread on the treasures we don’t sense
Awaiting someone brave who will extract
The Ace of Diamomds from the humble earth
Who knows for sure exactly what it’s worth.

Saved at Free Agency’s Cliff

I chose to take the edge of life’s last cliff
I watched another pilgrim take his turn
There was no supposition, no blind “if”
The lesson of the cliff was mine to learn
I chose step into that great unknown
I felt no fear; I only felt the call
Of silent grace, I knew I had to own
I knew my final step would be a fall
But then I felt her arms surround my life
“It’s not your turn,” the angel said to me
And so, I left the edge for present strife
And wonder where my life’s supposed to be
I wonder if it matters what I choose
Or if it’s by decision I can lose.

My Path

This is the tune I am working into this sonnet:
I chose a path nobody else would choose
To travel through this blessed thing called life
I’ve used the trails nobody else would use
I’ve striven with that quintessential strife

“Your path is hard, so what,” the Master said
“You’ve chosen to be buffeted by fate”
“You chose to live, my son; you’re not yet dead”
“I know you almost died, but death will wait”

There is no destination, just a path
Though mountains all have peaks, they’re not the goal
Though we may fall, there is no need for wrath
To fall from heights is not to lose control

The choices I have made are mine, alone
My path is hard; so what, I should have known!

Swinging High

Swinging High

Swinging High

The grass below my swing is emerald green;
The sky above my swing is sapphire blue.
And in the air I’m richer than a queen
With gold and diamonds, pearls and rubies too.
The golden sun that dips beneath my feet,
The diamonds sparkling on a distant lake,
The pearly petals of the daisies sweet,
My cheeks flush red as rubies for their sake.
And though I have the riches of my dreams;
I only have them when I touch the sky.
And though I try my best, it always seems
That on my own I don’t swing very high.
But I have found a friend to help me swing
And when I am a queen, he is my king.

A Runner’s Heart

A runner’s heart is stronger than his feet
It must be, like the currents of the sea
The waves may touch the shores as they repeat
But currents push the waves and set them free
To run expresses life from point to point
There is no life before the run begins
And finish lines are there to help anoint
The runner as he overcomes his sins
The runner sins by turning from his heart
His strength, and only looking at the road
It doesn’t matter where his run may start
Or finish if his heart is stopped or slowed
So feel your strength within when you’ve begun
And feel your heart grow stronger as you run.