Not so strange Stranger*

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I once watched me walking over a white sandy beach with a not so strange stranger. A man in ancient garb that radiated with a light like that of the white glare from a mirror. His set and sturdy face beamed with kindness and perfect grace. His strong gentle hands, marred, told me his story. And yet my legs moved still despite my heavy need to fall to my knees. This man laid down footprints like mine. We laid down footprints to be swallowed by the vast ocean. And then I heard His voice as it echoed with the same roar as the crashing waves, and yet I was calm and felt such love as only can be in a dream. His precious instruction made my soul weep tears of joy. He pointed to an azure sky that carried great cumulus clouds. With his hand to the heavens I witnessed the pure and sweet truth of love and its Eternal nature. While standing on the shore with this not so strange stranger I cam to realize myself.

I once dreamed...*

I once dreamed, I once had a vision of a day I'm not so sure didn't happen. A beautiful day with sun shining with birds singing. I remember like a dream, like some memory of something that almost happened in a dream that seemed like reality. I remember this angelic breeze cross the back of my vision. I turned to see the flutter of eye lashes. Butterfly beating of heart and a flash of the future toss the rest of the restless thoughts out. My soul licked the air and tasted the dew drop sweet water taste of the angel before me. With thirst quenched and mind at ease the clouds seem to glow under the beaming smile she glances my way. The voices the quiet still voices still speak around me as though nothing has just happened. As though the world has not just borne an angel a pure light, the speak on and speak with words so vain so lame and only I see the beauty the sun shining in the dark the candle being lit in the depths of the cavern. Only I see the rarest of butterflies and capture it in a net with silken threads and carefully I rest the winged wonder on my finger and watch as it breathes in heavy from the chase from the capture. I watch with child eyes as she takes each breath to speak, to laugh, and to smile. And I'm the only one with eyes to see this vision.

Old Poetry

I'm going to include some of the poetry I wrote while I was in High School and shortly after. Some of this poetry is personal and others are skill building attempts. My grasp of language and understanding of aesthetics has improved over time but in general I feel these poems constitute some of my best writing. You be the judge.

I'll indicate that a poem is from this era by using an asterisk at the end of the blog title. Please feel free to leave your constructive comments on any of the posts on this blog.