Rocking Chair Regret

here I sit with
tired eyes, 
slackening hands,
and an aching déjà vu

no longer a young recruit
in the struggle for what should be;
now I am nothing but a witness
to the battle that never dies

a lifetime ago
we fought to be heard -
if only we had learned
to listen!

so, the rocking chair
sways with regret and
the wheels on the bus
go 'round and 'round

Ring Out, Wild Bells

Though the New Year is still several days away I think Ring Out, Wild Bells by Alfred Lord Tennyson is a great way to shake off the doldrums; to go into the holidays seeing them as an opportunity for hope, for healing, and for rediscovering our unlimited capacity to love one another!


Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.
 
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be. 

No Voice

how can we say
to the ones who’ll carry
the weight of the future
that past events are truly history
when we keep walking the same damned road

how do we look at ourselves
and not weep the tears
of the damned knowing
we’re leaving our children
a legacy of war, hatred, and division

how do we stem the tide
of this death march and
restore the joy of childhood,
the preciousness of life,
and the freedom to live and love
according to the song in each priceless soul

how do we once again
bless the beasts and the children
and redeem the days for
those who have no idea
what lie in store for them?

Sleeping Beauty

she’s everywhere, always –

in the still of the lonely night,
deep in the heart of sorrow, and
at the bottom of a wordless well

she’s in the tears that fall on folded hands,
she’s just around the corner from the door that wouldn’t open, and
I’ve found her in tiny fingers slowly growing cold

all too often she is the lighthouse unseen,
the lesson lost in pity’s sea

to find her one must dive deeper than right now,
swim farther than why me, and
trust the power of the waves to wash away that was then and carry you to what is to be

beauty sleeps everywhere we are willing to walk,
beauty is awakened by the footsteps of resilience, and
beauty rises from the ashes to dance with the one who refuses to tread on the surface of circumstance