Warm colors not from outside

Outside, the garden’s disarray reflects his own spirit.
He gazes beyond today’s errie political mendacity,
attempting to follow the message of Thanksgiving.
The season’s story asks with answers and gives questions.
For now, nature’s bounty has shriveled to dry, itchy skins.
The joyous noise has ended, the guests all departed.
Remnants linger.

A hickory smoked ham carcass bears the scarred record
of hungry hands which sliced morsels into salivating mouths,
a thankful sharing of sustenance. Pillows and wool blankets,
suddenly cold, lie folded neatly near the futon bed,
which is now restored to its day job as a couch. No evidence remains
of the two cuddle snuggets which giggled there the night before.
Nor any more tinkling sounds of little doggy tags prancing
round Mom’s legs, skirting all arms but hers, bonded in devotion
to her care alone, with angelic innocence, golden halo. Glittering,
smiling eyes have gone. Squeaky floors are mute. Missing Espresso,
sounds and smells are silent. The cacophony of stuffed hours
has floated away. Surrendering to the moment was easy
with three conversations bubbling for attention all at once.
Happy consociates huddled around mini-decisions,
who wants to go on a walk, when it’s nap time. Ah, nap time.
Torpor weighed in after all. Events happened, with no one bearing
singular responsibility. A snack or a nap or a laugh was shared.
Familiarity insulated us from the cold, strange world
beyond the glass windows. The den bustled with clusters
of happy commotion.

Alone now in his newly painted great
room, his mood is comforted by the warm colors, gold, orange,
deep burgundy purple. That was the idea. The gray day surrounds
us all in our pools of warm light. The garden beckons
with the answer to this sweet emptiness.
Pick up where you are and tuck away these memories
for a long winter’s night.

technorati tags- Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving poems, gratitude, garden

Serendipity

Should I never see you again,
Every moment I have spent with you would
Resonate in my heart.
Echoes of your kisses
Never leave my lips.
Daring to have stepped into the fire
I know I shall never return the same.
Perhaps this is exactly what
Is meant to be…
Today what seems but love’s seed may
Yet become tomorrow’s passion flower.

Empty Nature

Empty nature whispers its secrets more clearly, uninhibited by our inhibitions.
Empty of paper, we free trees, and grow with them.
Empty of water, we die. Water is sacred and must be cherished.
Empty of land we fly, light as air.
Empty of air we suffocate. Breathe with respect for air also breathes us.
Empty of fire, our hearts grow cold, unable to burn love.
Empty of mind, we know everything.

Sacrificial Tree

Here are two poems about Christmas Trees. I’ve always been torn about having cut trees. I’ve reconciled my guilt by thanking the tree for giving me the soulful pleasure of its wonderful smell and living presence in my life.

I keep my trees as long as possible, usually until my birthday in mid January. This year I haven’t yet gotten a tree. I’ve just been too dissipated physically and emotionally, plus winter came on early, hard and strong. Who knows, maybe I’ll still get inspired.

Sacrificial Tree

Darkness descends upon afternoon’s glow
And pulls day’s light to down below.
As fickle air courts heavy chill
Feeble warmth flees up,
Conceding defeat
To weighty still.

I then illuminate the sacrificial tree
To lift the void which leadens me.
Her scintillating glitter
Enshrouds my fears
Enveloping my heart in glamorous sight.

This starry gift is infinitely old
yet ripe with richness
as time’s birth of soul.
Such sweet ritual!
Such mundane skill!
Giving root to such lofty thrill!

We need only open our hearts,
Our senses, our doubts, our souls to Her allure.
The myth of the season is born again.

Our Christmas Tree

Our Christmas tree stands before me,
evergreen through the seasons,
glowing with light
through darkness and freezing.
My soul is warmed by its
shimmering spirit,
all crystal and glimmering,
giving life to love needed.

I’m able to hope
by such burning glory
for peace where there’s strife
and love for those, lonely.
My heart aches with sadness
that you can’t be here near me
but life must go on, then
for Beauty’s Eternity.

technorati tags- christmas tree poems, Christmas poems, solstice poems, Christmas tree

Thanksgiving Poem

This poem was written by my partner and lover of 9 years, Ralf. Though english is not his first language, he always had a way with words. (he is German) His spirit taught me so much about attitude and perseverance. He is an old soul. Though we are no longer together, I believe we still have a connection. I am honored and gratified to have been his lover. Thank you, Ralf. With love, David

Happy Thanksgiving to all my friends out there. I hope you have warm, smiling eyes to gaze into and laugh with as you break bread together on this most universal of holidays.

Thanksgiving is a moment to remember
How little we can do to move the stars.
All we are and have we must surrender,
Nor is Earth less inscrutable than Mars.
Knowing this, we know the need for friends
Sharing both our pleasures and our pain,
Giving, though it may not serve their ends,
In joy the love that will our love sustain.
Very much like water in a lake,
In sum we serve as mirrors to the sky.
No one alone can heaven’s picture take.
Given friends, we know the reason why.

by Ralf