I WISH THERE WERE A WASHINGTON

I wish there were a Washington
For every failed state,
A Jefferson or Madison
To guide them through the gate.

I wish there were a Lincoln
For those now ripped apart,
A Roosevelt or Kennedy
For those that have no heart.

I wish each had the fortune
With which we have been blessed,
And found in their own founders
Fit heroes for the quest.

I wish, I wish, I wish, I wish,
But such things none can will.
One can only plant the seeds
And shape the soil well.

WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN YOUR MOTHER IS CRAZY

What do you do when your mother is crazy,
Hysterical, selfish, abusive, and cruel?
What do you do when really you hate her,
And it's all you can do to be distantly cool?

What do you do when you find her repulsive,
And the best of your memories are tinted with pain?
And now she is old, and needs to be near you,
And you cannot stand to be near her again?

How do you tell her the truth when the truth
Keeps accruing like some insurmountable debt?
When the horror that haunts you goes back to a moment
You cannot remember and cannot forget?

What do you do with your love when your love
Has been buried so long that you can't find its grave?
When love for a parent lies outside a window
Through which you imagine how people behave?

What do you do when whatever you do
Must cost more than the option you failed to choose?
For whether you turn to embrace or forsake her,
You're left with a burden you cannot refuse.

THE SUMMER IS A DESERT BETWEEN MOUNTAINS

The summer is a desert between mountains
Lavish with the joys of spring and fall.
I look across that bleak and lonely wasteland,
Seeing no redemption there at all.

I cannot think how I will cross without you
To reach the golden hillsides of my dreams.
I try not to imagine how I'll miss you,
And not to look too hard at what that means.

Time, the enemy of helpless lovers,

Must compensate at last those it bereaves.
I cannot wait until, once more together,
We can share the blaze of turning leaves.

EVERY MOMENT SINGS WITH FASCINATION

Every moment sings with fascination
As silence sits behind the vivid veil.
There is no rock not rife with revelation,
Nor word that will not ultimately fail.
Likewise, we are masks upon the void,
Uncreated at our empty core,
Mirror of what cannot be destroyed,
The nothing that the thing is destined for.
The being of our being is delight;
The nothing of our nothing, pure perfection.
Just beyond our day is utter night;
Just within our heart, its blank reflection.
The gift of life brings joy well worth the pain;
The gift of death brings us home again.

ON PASSING AIR

On passing air
One turns around
To see if any
Heard the sound;

Then moves away
To vacate where
Another might
Inhale the air;

And then, relieved
In gut and soul,
Becomes again
A wholesome whole.

FAMILIES ARE THE GIRDERS UNDERNEATH

Families are the girders underneath
All the brick and mortar of our lives.
Marriages will rarely end in death:
In sons and daughters long they hold their breath,
Lingering far past the men and wives,
Yet heard in great-great grandchildren's joy and grief.

WHEN I WAS YOUNG, I THOUGHT THAT I WOULD BE

When I was young, I thought that I would be
Blessed in everything I tried to do.
I thought my dreams would probably come true.
The center of my universe was me.
Ah! How beautiful it is to see
Such thoughts lie on the grass like heavy dew!
How rich the scent of all that makes life new,
Each coming to the truth eventually.
Now over forty, I have had the grace
To turn and see my shadow on the earth,
And know that at the heart of me is death.
No longer at the helm, I can embrace
The mystery that brought my soul to birth,
And savor the sweet silence in each breath.