Late night thought

live like a child
with your whole self
love like a child
with your entire heart
dream like a child
from your innocence
believe like a child
with the fullness of your imagination
and then you will not
have anything to apologize for


Wolf Song

I have stood on the rock where my brothers
sent the notes of the wolf song
skirling upwards
to be lovingly woven into the
mantle of Father Sky
where they have been bathed
in the waking wistfulness of
Brother Moon’s mysterious smile

I race the glittering rush of
the St. Lawrence River glinting starlight
Sister River giving back the beauty
of heaven
so unselfish in her love
leading me into the deeper heart
of mystery in the woodlands
darkly flanking the
wisdom of the Great Lakes
uncovering what justice remains
hidden from the cold eyes of man

in the hard street of the city
where men are brought
together by gossamer hopes
and kept together by the
rough rope of despair
I let my song flow through
to touch the winding concrete canyons
waking ancient dreams
of spirit magic

and in the end I am free
to run in the flatlands that still
echo with rhythmic drum sounds
with full notes of the pain
of the plains people so long gone
remembered in the deep earth
mourned by the guardian spirits who
drag their feet across the land
lamenting for their children of sorrow

I can stand beyond the towers of rock and ice
where myths are made
at the western edge on the water
look into yesterday
with eyes that know only the
limits of love, the heights of pain
I am free to sing at last

(November 2003)


I have been the wind
in the rain
The continuance of the
breath of Taliesin
The cloud over mountain
The joy in dew

I have been tears in
the soil of Avalon
The ashes in the
death of the Phoenix

I have tasted the bile
of evil unmitigated

I have been the breath
of the hounds of hell
The song of the
angels before the throne

Before there was life
there was the Law
In me is every corner of the

I am the dust under your shoes
the purity in your heart
Though you do not see my
infinitessimal smile
I overpower you with

I am the Word of God
and the Voice of Separation

He played for me and
I became
a note in the voice
of the Bard
A drop in the awen

I loved him and now
I am the memory

(February 28,2002)

untitled 2

the broken man cries in the rain
the sun does not warm his arms
he cannot feel the love inside
he cannot touch his beating heart

he is a statue, filled with pain
a victim of his endless harms
he opens up himself so wide
but the sum is much less than the parts

rain cannot wash away the grief
cannot take away the tears
moon does not bring any relief
and cannot soothe away his fears

i see him there a wasted form
a face with pain in every pore
i want to hold him in my hands
and dry the tears that never stop

others pass, it is the norm
another beggar, what a bore
no one remembers he is a man
they see a beast just fed on slop

but god, if god there really is
you must hear my aching prayer
cleanse him of sins that are his
tell him you are waiting there

he and i are of the same
we are flesh and blood and bone
i shield him gently from the rain
while the light leads him home


Lullabye, you found my heart
It’s tender strings you opened up
Lullabye where did you go?
Why can’t I follow you to there?

If we stand on ancient wings
and soar through Heaven
do you think
God would open up the skies
And wipe the tears
from bitter eyes?

If we could hear the lullabye
that you sang before you died
Of the glory and the pain
The broken man out in the rain

Lullabye I call to you
Hold out your notes
and bring me through
Lullabye erase my thoughts
and place instead
your melody

Angel maybe – Spirit Guide
I looked for you but you’re inside
And deep there in a part of me
my frailties for you to see
You opened up a lullabye
And gave me life through
an angel’s eyes

Lullabye I pray for you
Thank you, thank you
for all you do

Dedicated to the memory of one
who was well loved and lost too soon.
M, we will always be us,
in and out of time, dimension and reality.
October 14, 1999


my heart is weeping and its tears
are these lines that I write
to keep my head up when I feel alone
to hold my flesh together when my
spirit abandons me to sorrow

i hold dreams and visions in my hand
but they are not to be
i worked them into the soil of my
conscious thought and watered them
with my hopes

but the land is hard and barren here
dry as dust, dead as salt
shall I shoulder my rake and
walk North to the promise of new
lights and Tomorrow?

I fear to put my pen away lest
the life blood of my happiness run
dry as the page that accepts my
thoughts without question
and so I write

(February 13, 2004)

Passing fancies

too long have I sometimes sat alone
on the branch of a tree bare of leaves
too oft I have flowed o’er the withered
heath of another’s dried up affection

you must forgive if I seem to withhold
my voice from the world at large
and gaze instead at the intricacies
in a dragonfly’s eye

for in the moon’s embrace I have found
that truth and love are not the same
and the wind has kissed my fear away
while the sun tried to shame us all

passing fancies become the norm
and dreams wing into the light of day
I am not like you and cannot sit
in the bright glare of false love

I am not of this world for I can fly
on the whisper of feathered wings
no one told me when to stop
kissing bluebirds in the dawn

Childhood blurs with unreal dreams
hurtful years melt away to gold
I stand at the path strewn with silver stones
looking back at the grey of life

July 21/06