Seasons Are like Seasonings

Seasons are like seasonings,
Each a complex taste
Amplifying appetites of
Souls with senses graced.
Open up your windows,
Nestle in your beds,
Scent the scents of wakening fields,
Gaze at golds and reds.
Revel in the tang of time
Even now when night
Ends too soon the caravans
Traveling towards light.
In gratitude for being
Now sing that all might hear!
Give the gift of merriment!
Sing of love and cheer!
Secular Celebrations Seem So Spare
Secular celebrations seem so spare,
Even with religious ancestry,
As though the brick beneath what had been there
Stood unadorned where stuccoed grace should be.
Old prayers and praises now sound insincere,
No longer fitting where but reason reigns.
'Tis the season, nonetheless, for cheer;
Scoured of mystery, mystique remains.
God aside, the dark still turns towards light;
Revolving Earth still tilts into the sun;
Each gift of breath still fills one with delight;
Each child is still all being new begun.
The miracles one celebrates are questions
Implying answers too remote to know.
Nor need one not have faith in the directions
Given those whose fate it is to go
Step by careful step towards what is so.
Seldom Do We See Trees Go Out Walking
Seldom do we see trees go out walking,
Eager to drink in the morning sun.
As they lift their long arms towards the light,
Still they must be rooted in the earth,
Of one soil and water, in one place.
Night is when the restless go out walking,
Seeking dreams that cannot face the sun,
Gigantic, pulsing screams of garish light
Reeling through the agonies of Earth,
Escaping the drab certainties of place.
Each winter there's a time to go out walking,
To see the hills washed in a newborn sun,
In the pale slant of late December light,
Neither pastel dreams nor solid earth.
Gently adrift, we settle on some place,
Sunlight walking through our patch of Earth.
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I Can't Believe I'm Marrying/ My Grandma's Paperboy

I can't believe I'm marrying
My grandma's paperboy!
She said that you were "dreamy"
And the sort I would enjoy.
My grandma! Well, I humored her
And took a look at you,
And saw, those many years ago,
That what she said was true.
But not so fast, because we lived
A continent apart,
And were too young to comprehend
The wisdom of the heart.
We needed time to grow into
The truth that we had seen,
And let some others stampede through
The years that came between.
But Grandma always said that you
Were just the one for me,
And now we are all gathered here
To publicly agree!
How often can we say that love
Was truly at first sight?
But since I first laid eyes on you,
I've known Grandma was right!
I Have a Monster Crush on You
I have a monster crush on you,
A super-dinosaur!
It sits upon my chest and throat
And yet I beg for more.
When you're away I miss you so
My heart is full of sand.
Yet when you're here my stupid fear
Won't let me touch your hand.
I cannot sleep, I cannot eat,
I'm so wrapped up in you.
My thoughts drift up, away from words,
And fade into the blue.
I know this crush is not your fault;
The dinosaur is mine.
Yet if you could, please rescue me,
And put your arms around me, and hold me, and say
you love me, and Oh! God! Would that be good!
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Just as a Wave Is Lifted by the Shore

Just as a wave is lifted by the shore,
Then breaks across the slowly rising sand,
So as I watch you weep my feelings pour
Across the wash of what I understand.
I wish I could just take you in my arms
And all your pain could melt into my chest,
And all the violence of passing storms
Could pass through me and finally come to rest.
No words can set things right or presence lend
A miracle to light your darkened way,
But there is solace in a loving friend
And comfort in what I don't have to say.
Whatever circumstance you cannot bear,
Just turn to me, and you will find me there.
Let Me Be the Bandage for Your Bleeding
Let me be the bandage for your bleeding;
Let me be the ocean for your tears.
Let me be the secret of your healing;
Let me be the song to still your fears.
Love isn't love that cannot love in darkness,
Nor is it love that turns away from pain;
Nor would I love would I not hold your sadness
And with my love your love of life sustain.
So do not think your malady a burden,
And do not think my willingness deceit.
Just let your sorrow flow into my garden,
And I will share with you the harvest sweet.

Love Is Patient with a Life
Love is patient with a life
That brings its share of pain.
We know sometime there is an end
To the most stubborn rain.
We know the sun comes out again
On a world that's fresh and new,
And all the gifts we freely give
Somewhere, sometime accrue.
We know sometimes we have to wait
For life to come around,
And sometimes that it won't, but still
There's some good to be found.
And even when things happen that
Your soul can hardly bear,
Know that I'll be next to you;
My love is always there.
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I Love You, but I'm Not in Love with You

I love you, but I'm not in love with you.
I want your friendship minus your desire.
I would not lead you falsely or betray you.
I feel the tenderness, but not the fire.
I have no reason for my lack of yearning,
No explanation for what I don't feel,
No other love to whom I might be turning,
No anguish to suggest this isn't real.
Passion is a horse that knows no master,
And I cannot with fences make it stay.
It must run free towards daylight or disaster,
Awake to glory in no other way.
So I must say what you don't want to hear,
But it's a truth that both of us must bear.
I Miss You on Your Birthday
I miss you on your birthday,
Not only for your smile,
But for the piece of me that's gone,
Left within your care.
I'm in an empty hallway
And have been for awhile,
Gazing inwardly towards home,
Neither here nor there.
How quickly we've turned distant!
The months pass by like years.
How could friends so inseparable
So soon seem so apart!
How imprecise the instant
Held hostage by my tears!
Though Time may seem insatiable,
I have you in my heart.
I Pray for You and Wish I Could Do More
I pray for you and wish I could do more,
But more I cannot do from far away.
Like leaves before the wind we cannot stay,
Ripped dancing, dancing to the forest floor.
I wish I could your ailing health restore
And bring you to the strength of yesterday,
But all we mortal souls can do is pray
That God might alter what we have in store.
The beauty in our fragile life is love,
The only thing that makes the moment matter,
The golden thread that binds us all in light.
I wish, I wish I could your pain remove,
But like a wall the truth my will must shatter,
And so I send my prayers into the night.
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For Most of Us Life Passes like a Dream

For most of us life passes like a dream,
Revealing only what is on our minds.
Inside the prison of the self we see
Each object as a shadow on our wall.
Nothingness awaits, as sure as night.
Did I not have you, dear friend, I might,
Shadow on a shade, not be at all.
How much we need a word beyond our sea:
In love and laughter, thoughts of different kinds,
Perhaps, with luck, unraveling a seam.
Forgive Me if I Come into Your Bed
Forgive me if I come into your bed,
Open wounds to read therein your shame,
Remove your skin to gaze on naked sorrow,
Tear out your heart to substitute my name.
You wish, no doubt, to keep your personhead.
One we are, and one will be tomorrow;
No one is ever utterly unwed.
Even strangers are one flesh in joy and pain.
Friends Are Prisoners of Expectation
Friends are prisoners of expectation,
Reflected in the mirror of their need.
Instead of being happy on their own,
Each knows that one cannot survive alone,
Nor think unless another plants the seed.
Dependent all for person on relation,
So to be fed, must one the other feed.
Goodbye, Dear Friend and Graduate
Goodbye, dear friend and graduate!
Our golden time is over now,
Our time of nothing more than time,
Days of simply being friends.
But I will always treasure how
Your love for me slipped into mine,
Embracing me where courage ends.
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To the Father of My Children

To the father of my children:
Open up your willing heart!
Take what music I can give you,
Hearing, too, my silent song.
Even as, arrayed in passion,
Finding love, I play my part,
A wonder like a wind whips through me,
Truth unknown for which I long.
How beautiful, this unspent yearning,
Ever for the darkness burning,
Rising like a summer storm!
To My Man on Father's Day
To my man on Father's Day,
On whom my life depends,
My children's cheerful champion:
You are where yearning ends.
My paramour and harlequin,
All I want, and all I can
Not want and be OK.
To My Dads on Father's Day
To my dads on Father's Day,
On both of whom we both depend:
My daughter reinvents my themes.
Years pass, and well-wrought love remains.
Dads are saviors, straight or gay,
Always where our oceans end,
Deliverers of desperate dreams,
Solid land where sunshine reigns.
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Perhaps We'll Never Understand Each Other

Perhaps we'll never understand each other.
Loving doesn't mean that we agree.
If that were so, then I would say, why bother?
But there are things I know I'll never see.
I'm sure your heart knows what I don't yet know:
The pain of loving a reluctant son;
The anger, coming fast and building slow,
Of being helpless to control someone.
You want only that I grow up right,
But you know what right is, and I still don't.
I have to learn to wield my inner light,
And if I follow yours, well, then I won't.
I'm sorry for the anger in the air;
Though we fight, my love is always there.
Stepfathers Are No Less than Those of Blood
Stepfathers are no less than those of blood:
The spirit is more comely than the flesh.
Equally, two mysteries might mesh,
Paired by nature or by neighborhood.
Fathers are defined by how they love,
And not by how they multiply or breed.
Though you did not supply the primal seed,
How you've loved me does your kinship prove.
Each child must turn when life's too hard to bear,
Regarding someone's arms or empty air.
So do I turn, and always you are there.
Stepfathers of Grown Children Find the Grace
Stepfathers of grown children find the grace
To love beneath a banner of their own.
Each is more than friend, though not by blood;
Parent, yet not part of childhood;
Father, yes, in truth, but not in stone.
Arms open ever to our long embrace,
They give to us what's theirs to give alone:
Hearts unhindered by a child's good,
Ears unhampered by what words we would,
Regard deep rooted in a single tone
Shared through fondness for a single face.
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How Might a Sacrifice Seem like a Gift

How might a sacrifice seem like a gift?
Altruistic pleasure comes from love,
Plumbing depths within which monsters move,
Piercing hearts within which demons drift.
Yet love comes naturally, as one might shift
From darkened fields one's gaze to lights above,
Astounded by a wonder that will prove
The bridge across one's first, most wrenching rift.
How might one live insatiably with joy,
Each moment filled with grace one knows is true,
Reasoning from premises that were,
'Ere life on Earth, deep-rooted in the soul?
So like the sea will love one's spirits buoy,
Doing what no self alone can do,
As monsters still the ancient waters stir,
Yearning, yearning ever to be whole.
How Can I Touch You when You're Far Away
How can I touch you when you're far away?
A poem is not as salient as a kiss.
Poems but poorly presences convey,
Perhaps because of all that words must miss.
Yet write I must because you are not here,
Father farther from my eyes than heart,
A face more frequent than it might appear,
Tempered by the tyrannies of art.
How might I be with you in ways that are
Equal to the passion of my yearning,
Reaching for a grace beyond the bar
'Ere there's any word of your returning.
So may the time between us quickly pass,
Days of longing that long cannot last,
A time when but through words we may embrace,
Yet know that soon we will be face to face.
How Much I Love You I Can't Say
How much I love you I can't say:
It's more than words can hold.
You're all at once my rich, red clay,
My potter and my mold.
Yours the words that shaped my voice,
The spirit within mine.
Yours the will that shaped my choice,
My fortune, and my sign.
How lucky I was to have had you
At the core of me!
Wise and good, you always knew
Just what I could be.
And so I came to be someone
Whom I could be proud of.
For this I give my swollen sum
Of gratitude and love.
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Retirement Requires a Goodbye

Retirement requires a goodbye,
Entailing a sudden separation.
The wound is often deeper than the why:
In truth, an unexpected revelation.
Ravenous the passage of the years
Even as we spend the days together,
Meaning more than we can tell with tears,
Each entangled in the constant other.
Now you must go, and we remain behind;*
Ties so strong will not so soon unbind.
Great Bosses Grant the Glory They Receive
Great bosses grant the glory they receive,
Offering their praise and their devotion.
On them the mantle settles like a cloak
Designed to shelter lots of little folk,
Bearing them along in its emotion.
Yet freely we give more than we receive,
Eager to float that ship upon our ocean.
Goodbye, My Lover and My Friend
Goodbye, my lover and my friend,
On whom I lean my life,
On whom my fortunes now depend,
Do, for me, keep safe.
Be brave, my love, but also know
You live not just for one, but two,
Even as I wait.
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Greatness Is Effect Far More than Cause

Greatness is effect far more than cause.
Each hero is the servant of his fate,
On whom is laid the sacrificial weight
Reserved for those who would heed higher laws.
Given peace, I would have shunned applause,
Electing to remain a farmer, great
With long-gestating plans for my estate,
A much-loved labor lost to much-loathed wars.
So was I the father of a nation,
Having given over life and love,
Instrument of some far greater hand,
Not by choice but of necessity.
Glory was the means by which to fashion
The myth that would a king's replacement prove:
Only I would do, and that demand
Narrowed, deepened, scoured, chastened me.
Joy Is Not a Treasure You Can Lose
Joy is not a treasure you can lose.
Unless you will not, you will be consoled.
Linger with me long as you may choose.
In music as in life no joy is cold.
Undo, then, the tight corset of your grief
So that you might enjoy the moment's keening.
Give ear to music, eloquent though brief,
Restoring to the miracle its meaning.
Of all we think and feel and say and do,
So little, really, must be bound by time.
Still palpable, I'm here with all of you,
Musical as ever in this rhyme.
All I was, I am, and yet will be,
No less in love, although in memory.
Just as Love in Life Can Lessen Pain
Just as love in life can lessen pain,
Even more it soothes the pain of death.
For you our love must come and go like rain;
For me it is my heart, my word, my breath.
Let Others Speak of Hell -- I Speak of Courage
Let others speak of Hell -- I speak of courage:
In one there's inspiration for the other.
Nor need despair of Heaven one's life ravage:
Demand enough of Hell, and it rolls over.
All I suffered was what I endured,
For me a source of pride as well as pain.
Restored by love, I never could be cured:
Ill for life, but not alive in vain.
Enter bravely into my delight,
Dreadful though might be my manic mind.
More is known by feeling than by sight
As even darkness has its own sweet light;
Nor did I die but by my own design.
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Occasions Such as These Acquire Meaning

Occasions such as these acquire meaning
Not only in the heart but on the stage,
Your intimate agreement now convening
Our families, for we also will engage.
Union will unite two universes,
Reaching back and forward into time,
Eliciting new verses and reverses
Needed to accommodate the rhyme.
Granted, then, the Thespian component,
Albeit small, of what will now unfold,
Giving to your audience a moment
Each may in collective memory hold.
May you find in love a public beauty
Equal to your private sense of duty,
No less a part of happiness than pleasure,
Though passion sing, and rapture be your leisure.
Oceans Are Not Infinite
Oceans are not infinite,
Nor life-long love forever,
Yet every moment holds a bit
Of infinite endeavor.
Underneath the undertow
Remains the restive dream,
Eden in a bungalow
Nearby what life might seem.
Given the reality,
A will will find a way,
Grace to share with what must be,
Each choosing each each day.
May you thus in Eden dwell
Even here, by loving well,
Needing what you have, for then
The bowl comes ever round again.
Of Love and Fortune, Happiness and Choosing
Of love and fortune, happiness and choosing:
No reason is enough for such a choice.
You total up the winning and the losing,
Out of which comes no commanding voice.
Underneath the numbers is the need,
Reckless as a snowflake in the wind,
Eden once again by love decreed,
Nor can mere knowledge such sweet hope rescind.
Gifts of grace are given but to those
Amazed enough to step into the light,
Great with wonder at the life they chose,
Embracing it with unabashed delight.
May you choose again each day to love,
Each the gift that does the other move,
Needing always someone who needs you,
That fortune not for one find joy, but two.
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I Miss Your Laughter, Fun, and Gentleness

I Miss Your Laughter, Fun, and Gentleness
I miss your laughter, fun, and gentleness.
I miss the things I used to do for you.
I miss the time, now filled with emptiness,
When each day was a stage for something new.
I miss your love, though mine for you remains,
A passion with no outlet to the sea,
A teardrop in a desert, that contains
What's left of my maternal ecstasy.
I miss your presence, like a silent chord
That anchored even solitude in grace.
I miss, for my love's labor, the reward
Of seeing some small pleasure in your face.
All these I miss, and yet they are all here
Within my heart, far more than I can bear.
I Need to Say Goodbye Although You're with Me
I need to say goodbye although you're with me.
I stand beside your grave, yet you are here.
I miss you terribly and hope you miss me,
But when I turn to you, you're always near.
I talk to you as though you lived within me,
Not changed but simply moved in from outside.
I know each day you must a little leave me,
But here, as always, you must be my guide.
You were and are and will be, just as ever,
In many minds and hearts, not only mine.
No physical event can such love sever;
Death is a dimension, not a line.
And so goodbye does not mean you are gone:
So long as I still love you, you live on.
I Want You to Be Happy When I'm Gone
I want you to be happy when I'm gone.
When you mourn me, make your mourning bright,
Adjusting what you long for to the light.
Nor need you love the less what has passed on.
The art of memory is celebration,
Yearning that turns sorrow into song,
Opening a heart forever young
Upon the unmade bed of its creation.
Then celebrate my life, and also death,
On which I, like a mendicant, depend,
Begging that my suffering might end
Even as I fight for every breath.
Hold onto me with unresentful tears,
A testament to what we've learned of love,
Pleased again to move as your heart moves,
Partaking with no loss in passion of
Years as rich and full as were our years.
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How Lucky to Have Had So Good a Father

How Lucky to Have Had So Good a Father
How lucky to have had so good a father!
On us his warm, unstinting sun long shone.
We were, of his hardworking life, the center,
Loved for the pure joy of love alone.
Uncanny are the requisites of pleasure,
Coming as they do within the will.
Knowing well where lay his greatest treasure,
Years on years of love he labored still.
How Might a Spirit Settle in the Wind
How might a spirit settle in the wind?
After death, how might a soul find peace?
Love lasts long after lips and laughter cease,
Leaving only memories behind.
Out of longings, one might linen spin,
Weaving well the welkin edged with fleece.
Each spirit must from wandering seek release,
Else ever through the weary midnights wend,
Not resting till love's angels dark descend.

I Am the Mirror of Our Love
I am the mirror of our love,
And you its brazen fire.
To me our love is merely joy;
To you it is your breath.
I am the marker that must move;
You, the fixed desire.
You are what I most enjoy;
I am life or death.
And now you must be put to sleep,
And I remain awake
With years of love ahead of me,
And many pets to go.
But I'm the one who can't help weep
While you, just for my sake,
Come rest your chin upon my knee
And beg to share my woe.
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Frosty Died Last December

Frosty Died Last December
Frosty died last December,
My closest friend for fifteen years.
We were born the same November;
Now I can't put down my tears.
It's not fair that dogs should live
Just a short piece of our lives;
They give us the love we give
To parents, children, husbands, wives.
More loyal than a human love,
More passionate and all-consuming:
No spat would Frosty's love remove,
So fixed on me, so unassuming.
My grief is real, my pain is strong,
Though not all would be so moved;
But I can't think how I'll go on
Without this creature I so loved.

Her Life Was Not as Glorious as Some
Her life was not as glorious as some,
Devoted to her children and their children,
Taken up by quiet tedium:
What's left when dreams are scattered to the wind.
She loved too well, perhaps, and fought too hard
To make a marriage work that wasn't right.
She was, of all bright loveliness, a shard
Struck off to bring our lives the gift of light.
There are those whose lives are shaped by love;
Whose pleasures, rich and full, are found in giving;
Who make our wild hearts bloom and passions move
Into measured fields made lush by living.
Without her all the gold's gone from the day;
She will be missed far more than we can say.
Here's a Little Ditty
Here's a little ditty for
A sailor lost at sea,
An Irishman, most sorely missed
By friends and family.
He'd reached the prime of life when he
Encountered Davy Jones,
And now all that is left of him
Are tears and scattered bones.
He lives in those he left behind,
His loved ones and his mates,
And as they die, he'll die again,
Conjoined with many fates;
Until at last his being, with
A brief, unuttered sigh,
Will yield its presence peacefully,
And bid the world goodbye.
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Clear Away the Cobwebs from Your Eyes

Clear Away the Cobwebs from Your Eyes
Clear away the cobwebs from your eyes --
Old ways of thinking, doing, wanting, dreaming!
Learn that present truths are future lies,
Undone by what is now well past redeeming.
Make of life a vast experiment
Blessed by passion, toil, terror, pain,
Unafraid to scuttle what you meant,
Sure only that no failure is in vain.
Do this, and you will have a chance to be
A sailor at the edge of what you see,
Yet yearning for what no one can attain.
Could I Have Seen the Consequence
Could I have seen the consequence
Of my bold exploration,
Looking back before I left
Upon my life's creation --
Millions genocidally
Butchered, starved, enslaved
Under laws and governments
Sustained by men depraved --
Despite all this, I would have gone,
And new lands found, and new worlds known,
Yet drawn by winds I craved.

Could We but Have the Clarity of Fate
Could we but have the clarity of fate
Or see the future as we do the past,
Little would we miss the mystery
Unknown to those who know what lies ahead.
Mountains make horizons definite,
Blocking off infinity, the last
Unbroken wave upon this solid sea,
Singing songs that we have long since heard.
Do, then, those few sailors celebrate,
Alone amidst the watery wilderness,
Yet seeking grandly what it is to be.
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Meaning Is a Measure of Repose

Meaning Is a Measure of Repose
Meaning is a measure of repose.
Each clarity extends our comfort zone.
Reason understands what reason knows,
Rendering its verdicts on its own.
Yet if God did descend one frosty night,
Child emergent from a mortal womb,
How can we comprehend so strange a sight,
Reason still incumbent in the room?
Ideas must answer more than we might ask,
Seizing not our wisdom but our fire.
The wonder must be equal to the task,
More consumed by passion than desire.
A truth must be a stone that breaks the heart,
Shattering alike our faith and art.
Merely Being Is a Miracle
Merely being is a miracle.
Each is both aware and unaware.
Running underneath one's thoughts, a canticle
Repeats one's silent gratitude as prayer.
Yet life does not allow for much devotion,
Claustrophobic in its constant need.
Hunger puts the mind in constant motion,
Reckoning the harvest from the seed.
In ritual and art one finds a moment
Still enough to peer into the deep,
To see beneath the will the wonderment,
Music of such joy that one must weep.
As angels sing, so sing that you might hear
Silence that no mortal long can bear.
Merry Christmas to My Love
Merry Christmas to my love!
Enjoy the holiday!
Revel where the angels move,
Rejoice in what they say!
Years burn life down to a stub;
Christmas comes and goes.
Happiness lies at the nub,
Refuse of one's woes.
Inside the husk there is the seed,
Shivering with glory;
The midnight cold, the dire need,
Mere setting for the story.
All the labor, loss, and pain
Sings of beauty born again.
Merry Christmas to the One I Love
Merry Christmas to the one I love,
Even on this day of love for all,
Remembering the love of one whose call
Redeemed all those whose hearts his love might move.
Yet only one love does my spirit prove,
Chosen in a passion like a squall,
Having in such ecstasy withal
Rejoiced in what we were created of.
In such love do we find our way outdoors,
So to be drawn to love of flesh and soul,
Traveling beyond our village green,
Moving towards the wash along our shores
As our love joins the greater love unseen,
Shining with dark passion on the whole.
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I'm Your Christmas Tree, All Brightly Lit

I'm your Christmas tree, all brightly lit,
Hung with angels, colored balls, and elves.
Underneath my boughs your presents sit,
If you've behaved yourselves.
Why must we wait till early Christmas morn
To open up our brand-new games and toys?
Why gifts for us the day that Christ was born
If we're good girls and boys?
Now listen to your Christmas tree: I'm wise
In all the ways of faith that you must know.
I'm here because of what I symbolize:
Green through ice and snow.
There is a world beyond what we can see
Where, by grace of God, we can receive
God's greatest gift: to live eternally,
If only we believe.
Eternal life is what God gave to you
In sending down His son to live on Earth.
This was His gift, so Santa brings gifts, too,
To celebrate Christ's birth.
The baby Jesus got gifts on this day
Because, like any child, He loved to play.
And so God wants to share this special joy
With every girl and boy.
Believe God loves you as your parents do,
And takes great joy in giving gifts to you.
Live well and love, and evergreen like me,
You'll live eternally.
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May You Find This Christmas Inner Peace

 May You Find This Christmas Inner Peace
May you find this Christmas inner peace
Equal to the patient love you give,
Releasing all the pain you can release,
Renewing all the grace with which you live.
Yearnings may you turn to rhapsodies,
Choosing to find happiness in beauty,
Holding in their haunting melodies
Riches that sustain your sense of duty.
In anger may you find an evening star
Showing you the way to Bethlehem.
The angels that watch naked from afar
May you hear sing of who would none condemn.
As all you love are blessed in having you
So may you feel the joy in all you do.


May You Feel Such Love as Lights the Morning
May you feel such love as lights the morning
Even at this darkest time of year:
Rippling through your heart with little warning,
Returning you to wonder and to fear.
You cannot will yourself to feel such love;
Christmas is a gift of unsought grace.
However much you may your spirit move,
Redemption chooses whom it will embrace.
In you may there be radiance and beauty
Such that you might never hope to see,
Taking as its home some common duty
Made lovely by a will sustained and free.
As you become a vessel for this light,
So may you know its pain and its delight.

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How Lovely 'Tis to Take This Time

Here There Are No Hearts Not Touched by Joy
Here there are no hearts not touched by joy.
A star illumines all, who see or no.
Peace is like a pang across the plain,
Passing in a moment wrought with pain,
Yet echoing in places few can go,
Harbors hard to enter or destroy.
On those who love there is but little lost.
Love's an open door to life and death.
In seasons of great joy there is a strain
Dear to those whose efforts must maintain
A sense of some bright bourne beyond each breath.
Yet even those who calculate the cost
Still dance to more delight than they can know.
How Lovely 'Tis to Take This Time
How lovely 'tis to take this time
To greet our dearest friends,
To wish them health and happiness
Before the old year ends.
Darkness comes late afternoon
And winter lies ahead,
But friendship is a glowing fire
When all seems cold and dead.
Just as in some vacant barn,
Unnoticed in the night,
The whole of human history turns,
So we, too, make things right.
We must keep alive the flame
Though darkness grip the Earth;
For in the love we find in friends
Is our chance for rebirth.
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Charity Is like an Unsung Anthem

Charity Is like an Unsung Anthem
Charity is like an unsung anthem
Harmonizing everything we see.
A gift can be a work of silent witness,
Remembrance, reverence, unsought forgiveness,
Intention, labor, time, philanthropy.
The worth is measured only by redemption,
Yielding nothing but the grace to be.
Charity Should Make the Giver Sing
Charity should make the giver sing,
Happy in the undertow of sharing.
A gift should not be given out of duty,
Remiss in both its pleasure and its beauty,
Intent on rectitude, bereft of caring.
The burdens of the world may be worth bearing,
Yet gifts should still a certain lightness bring.
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