The light in my heart is bound by a curtain
...A veil that keeps me
    ...A keep that locks me
        ...A lock that holds me
            ...A hold that binds me

I'm bound in a thread of fettered emotion
A thread of trust
A fetter for lust

Do I dare pull back the curtain?

The heart says "You must!"
The spirit says to trust

But how do I trust when the heart fights the mind?

Is the light that burns me, an ember of love?
Is the curtain that veils it His will?
Or am I bound by society's anxiety?
Or is it the chain of legalistic piety?

Maybe this light is nothing at all
    A mist over water
    A color in fall

But now when I sit to think clearly...
My Heart Roars with the Fanfare of a Thousand Trumpets
The Ocean Rushes in with a Rip Tide
The Sun and Stars Rise in Glorious Majesty
And the Angelic Hosts Crush and Hurl the Firmaments
    But in the lonely center
        The solitary well
            From whence comes the light

                ...My thoughts are drowned

The curtain becomes a waterfall of Auburn Tresses
The lock, a lock from which a single thread is pulled
To pull my Firey Spirit into the darkest dungeon

    Where the only other light,
    Comes from the image of
        ...two eternal gems
        ...two lonely stars
                looking at me
                knowing me
    Where the only other sound
    Comes from the image of
        ...one eternal voice
        ...one lonely songbird
                singing to me
                loving me

But only deep within

The veil has not been pulled
The chaos not unleashed
The gems have not been taken
The bird remains free

And still I remain
Kept by my curtain
Keeping emotion
Wondering, Pondering,
Bound by a thread
Led...
All for the notion of Purity.

Treasure

I walk the boulevard of worldly vanity

Surrounded by wares of lust and profanity

On every side are soulless faces

Blank eyes

Shut ears

They wander aimlessly without direction

Yet slowly inexorably the same destination

Why do I mingle?

Why do I linger?

Among the corpulence

Amidst the vice

In this place what do I hope to achieve?

I am given jewels

Nuggets of knowledge

Of great value I’m told

Offers of wisdom

Offers of love

Offers of glory

Offers of fame

Yet how valuable are such treasures

When all they buy are short lived pleasures

What use are such wares

When imbeciles are counted as wise

Where prostitutes are lovers

When the lost claim to have knowledge

And glory lasts only a day

Their treasures make me look the same

Do I affect them by seeming similar?

Or does similarity cause no difference?

Lead Tongue

How you tear away my heart

The agony I feel today

My leaden tongue, condemns me still

I have no words to say

Rend me, slash me, mock my face

Attack my person, blast my faith

How I wish I could just meet you

Reason, argue, stand up firm

It’s not about the common sense

It’s not about religion

It’s not about judging others

Or even about your own decisions

Christianity is not the structure

The building, the traditions or doctrine

All that matters is your relationship with Him

If you live to please Him all else follows

Oh how self-assured you stand

Twisting scriptures in your hand

You’re so deceived I see right through

Why don’t I have the words to prove it?

I pray for you, your mind and soul

You need a personal God to make you whole

I trust the Spirit with this work

I just wish I could make the Gospel clear for you

The Wall

Cut by the shards of my overambition

I struggle to mount this wall

You drive me with pride and great expectation

You call from above

But there’s no one behind

To catch me in case I should fall

I’m tired of fighting a losing fight

I’m at your every beck and call

Nothing I do is ever quite good enough

I B working so hard

Just to sharpen my mind

But what use is the mind if you’re losing your soul

Why is imagination a science?

Why must I analyze beauty?

Why must I focus on suffering?

Why must I classify love?

What happened to passion?

What happened to art?

What happened to time spent with God?

Climbing this wall has consumed me

I climb without reaching the top

No handholds or footholds assure me

My life is consumed by this wall

You

You, are the canopy of dimly lighted forest glades

The shelter of the gentle birds that sing their songs in secret shades

You are the distant glory of spinning heavens, burning stars

The golden gowns of Venus, the red streaked shadow of Mars

You, are the heart of purest music dissolved in blissful light

I am the slowly creeping dark that hides the world in night

You, are the fresh sprung winter rose, rejected and forlorn

You, are the jewel of beauty’s crown and I am just a thorn

You are morning’s glory

You fill my thoughts at night

You have consumed me fully

I’m blinded by your light

You’re the treasure behind the veil

The wind behind my sail

You’re the fruit of the vine

You're more potent than wine

I’m inebriated at the thought of you

The Music Of My Heart

Come listen to my music

Come listen to my heart

The song it sings it sings for you

Whenever we’re apart

Come meet me in my highest chamber

Engage me with your song

The music that I make with you

Can overcome all wrong

I see you in that crystal tower

I know that you see me

Descend oh heart to furrowed field

And plant your heart with me

Leave behind your stone plateau

Think only thoughts of light

You bring me poems, music, songs

I want to bring you life

Spear

A spear of light hurled from the hands of an uncaring sun

Piercing, Penetrating

The earth is laid bare

The tender-hearted share

The dawning of a new day

It is that light which they love and fear

The daily renewal of hope

Hails like a bloody battle horn

Heralding the death of the moment

The relentless passing of time

Where has time gone you slothful man?

You live to save the moment

The moment now passed

You live in the past

Never moving from your pains and pleasures

Do not defend what is gone

Let the spear kill, and move on

But do not stay, do not mourn

Follow its wake, rise and remake

For in the wake of the dead there is life

Memory

There are breezes that echo in mellower tones

Events of a time that has passed

Long distant voices of overgrown streets

Pavestones of memory in glass

Please don’t abandon me

Sit still and remember

Sing tales of the spiraling glories we built

Come and sit down with me

Just one moment of time

A sweet conversation says all that I’ve felt

Hear the report of brick upon brick

The slow sounding symphony of stone

We’ve just touched the surface

Our foundation is laid

With these first real tones

Are harmonies made?

There are mist-shrouded towers of heavier clime

Returning the cadence, upon-once a time

A radiant face that slips down the hall

A musical voice on a telephone call

Let me return to my city of gold

I come to build once again

Glorious Stars Eternal

The stars in their glorious majesty rise

singing their songs and crying their cries.

The lights from their eyes are as silver spears

shining like pearls and sparkling like tears.

They swirl ‘round in their hypnotic dance

brilliantly spinning and leaping they prance.

From their flaming robes and gleaming hair

flows liquid light through a glistening air. 

Farther and faster and higher they fly

solemn and graceful they’re filling the sky.

Both serious and joyful heaven’s hosts soar

looming and dreadful, majestic they roar. 

The stars of the sky are as beautiful birds

freedom and flight are their only verbs.

But like lonely sentinels guarding the way

stars stay in the sky until the next day. 

Although the stars are less brilliant than noon

less bright than the sun, less bright than the moon.

Stars make up for this lackage of light

by mingling their luster, resplendence and might. 

Magnificent gems they make the sky glow

like luminous, radiant halos of snow.

Auroras of brightness and sight blinding whiteness

give thought to the earth in its wrongs and its rightness.

Celestial deities exalted with pride

alive when the night walks and when the day dies.

So when the dark dome replaces the blue

Look up! Look up! I say to you.

And when you look up then you shall see there

the ethereal stars in their eternal lair.

My Plum Tree

The sun is beginning to set in the east.  His commanding figure in all his majesty and might bearing his great gold shield and fiery javelins, leads his entire army of enormous white clouds in their slow retreat from the skies to their rest beyond the horizon.  Withdrawing their light they withdraw also their power and protection from the world below, however, the absence of light requires darkness.  Darkness brings the enemy.  Up from the East rises the moon in her full glory and splendor, riding her magnificent silver stallion and leading behind her, her multitude of starry hosts. 

                There is only one guard to stand against this frightening danger.  That guard is my plum tree.  My plum tree is a tall tower of illustrious grace that slowly spirals upward in an arching umbrella.  The tree grabs the fleeting rays of the thinning sun and hurls them into the dark as spears of rosy pink light. The tree snatches power from the gathering winds, and initiates a wild swaying dance intended to slow or halt if not completely turn aside the impending, inevitable dark.  Shivering animals, sniveling children and scared men and women find safety and shelter in the shade of this lone sentinel.  As the seconds tick by, the darkness grows deeper, and the stars spin around in their victory dance. But lo and behold the sun rises again. Wrathfully comes the sun, shredding the dark and reinstating his reign of light.  The battle is quick, its ending inevitable, but nevertheless there is an almost audible sigh of relief as my tree is relieved of its duties.

                This day the sun shines down on a happy scene.  After many days of rain the sun is finally able to show his face.  Doing so, he is greeted by a shining trellis of orange and purple, tall arching and swaying in the wind, reaching to the sun like a child to its father, eager to grow. 

                This is my plum tree.  This plum tree needs no flowers for it itself is a flower, whose petals reach for the sky probing, searching for the eternal golden bliss of the sun; and when they find it, they absorb it and shine it forth in a brilliant aurora of refracted yellow.  Its long thin branches gently tap against each other in the wind creating the pattering sound of rippling paper or falling rain.  My plum tree smells of a deep joyful smell, intense and fruity and full of gathering strength to shout for joy at the beginning of spring. 

                Again the sun sets in the West, and again my plum tree assumes guard, and thus the never-ending cycle of day to night resumes, with my tree’s never ceasing vigilance to watch and protect as the sun departs and night returns. 

 The First Of June

Oh the joys and the ills of coming summer!

I greet thee warmly first of June.

Farewell I say, spring rains and school.

I welcome thee hot Sun, clear Moon!

Starlight Lullaby

Chorus:
Sleep now my dear look the sunlight is gone
Rest your head, close your eyes, day is done.

Starlight is shining the moon glowing bright
Do not fear, I am near, all is right.

Verse:
Sleep, when you are in your bed your dreams will all be sweet.
Lay, nothing will wake you but the risen light of day.
Please do not cry, just listen to my lullaby.
I will be here. You'll be safe. Don't you cry

Repeat Chorus: ~~~~~

Venetian Lullaby

Let me sweetly, softly sing,
Of magical lights and ghostly canals,
Of arches and domes and ethereal bridges,
The music of silence and watery song,

Hear the echoing belltower,
Hear the often repeated sounds,
Of distant voices lifted together,
Harmonies heard, and melodies sheltered,
By ears who know the sound of the singer,
But do not know the heart of the song,
Music breaks those barriers down,
Transcending the mind and connecting the soul,

Let me sweetly softly sing,
Of whispering canals under moonlit bridges,
The luminescent pearls of a wandering spirit,
A single boat,
Drifting on an endless horizon,
A lifted eye to a speckled heaven,
A quiet soul,
Bathed in tears,
Clothed in years,
Rocked slowly back and forth,
Sleep, in the lullaby of light...

Journeys in Italia

The bells of Saint Mark’s are still ringing

With echoes of songs we’re still singing

An American heartbeat the undaunted bass

Trapped in a chalice of red Venice glass

Filled with the sounds of bright golden tones

Gold is the color of mosaic domes

Mosaics like choir members, each tightly knit

Each tone rightly placed, each sound tightly fit

Color each memory of music and love

Like a fresco or tapestry come from above

Red like the blood that flows from my soul

Red is the cup that holds memories whole

Make a wish in the Trevi Fountain

And they say that the wish will come true

Italia my heart is still singing your tune

A wish could not lengthen the time spent with you