A Voice in the Wilderness...

Grey day spilling down in waves,

from a fine mist kissing the ferns 

changing to a steady pour,

drenching the still leafless branches

that drip in a staccatto droplets

and glisten on the tree bark,

reflecting lights for this wooded driveway.

Moonlight glows behind the clouds

giving a pale glow to the rain as it falls,

tiny bolts of lightning contained in each droplet,

exploding in a burst of muted light,

brown and grey among sodden leaves, 

sparkling upon the quartz scattered here and there

and pooling in ruts hidden by leaves 

lying in wait for the unwary traveler, 

to spring a trap of mud and water

and socks soaking in cold boots.

Snap of a branch and the forest is suddenly still;
the frogs have ceased and the birds are silent
like in a westrn movie when the hero
 walks into the villian's saloon

and all heads turn to see 
who dares disturb the quiet.

Emerging from the fog that swirls along the treeline
is an albino deer, well pied actually,
a blaze of white splattered brown
as if painted by an angry artist in a rush.
Pale pink eyes, reflecting and refracting the dim moonlight,
drawing in the light and seemingly glowing 
like a white ember in the bed of night

My eyes move, but not my head
as i follow his movements,
for he is a buck as his thick neck attests,
and watch him meander along an age old game trail. 
As he steps, so do i, mirroring his every move
lifting and placing my feet with great deliberation,
lest i stumble, kick a rock or break a branch
and give away my presence.

Mystical sighting,
where is the enlightenment, 
are you here to prepare my way, 
to help me get ready?
Then, keep my nerves steady,
keep my outward appearance calm
lest the turmoil within does 
less good than harm
Keep my heart warm
though i feel ice in my veins  
and keep my mind clear
to see this through to the end...
            04-26-14

Stages...

The calm after the storm,
a sense of relief
the knowing frees you
growing stronger from within
for there is nothing without
that can help you now.

The shock,
like ice water,
freezing your soul
as you struggle
for a semblance of control.

Denying the truth,
like Peter,
but more than three times
over the course of the night
Trying to find the sense,
hoping for a glimmer of light
at the end of that dark tunnel.

Anger simmers,
waiting to boil
looking for an excuse
to burn all in your path.
Beware the lava that flows
from the wound in my heart.

Ready to make a deal with the Devil
though already in Hell
My life has been a nightmare
what else is left to foretell?
Happy endings are for fairy tales.

Depression is not a strong enough word
There must be a word in Greek,
the lovers of Tragedy, to better convey
Melancholia comes close but not close enough

Accept your fate
before it's too late
realize we start dying
the minute we are born
and all we ever have is a new morning...

The Monkey Song...

Wish i were a monkey,
not that i'm far removed.
I don't want to be your flunky
bit i don't want to wear your shoes.
If you are deciding
about running or just hiding away,
tell me what you're thinkin'
about your situation today.
Are you happy with your facts of life (facts of life)?
Are you happy towing your line?

Wish i were a pigeon
and some people were statues.
I'm no avenging angel
but at times i would like to let loose.
Standing in a line,
hoping i can find my own way.
Don't tell me how to go
if we are not going the same way.
Live and learn, so my pappy said (yes, he said)
Books may burn
but there still your head.

Wish i were prophet
and i had some Good News.
Buildman ark or leave Gmorrah,
still it would be yours to choose.
If you are still waiting,
hating making up your own mind,
go sit in a corner,
be warmer while you're falling behind.
Nothing's lost, but nothing's gained
but you only get one chance to plat this game,
yeah, you only get one chance to play this game
you only get one chance to play this game...
... unless your name is Shirley MacClaine...
                cica 1981