The Angels Dance (+3)

Speaking to not one

but the multitudes,

the prophet raised his head

 

And serving up his gratitude,

the starving and hungry

were given bread

 

Starting again

his eyes looked up,

and through a plain white cloth he bled

 

While standing in the same spot

his father had,

and repeating those words he said…

 

   “Don’t worship me,

     Become yourself,

     Divinity, yours at hand

 

     “Wash their feet

   And free your mind,

     Bring peace throughout the land

 

   “Thank not one,

   But all you meet

   For a soul no longer wracked

 

   “And with each new breath

   The Angels dance

   —salvation looking back”

 

     (Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

 

The Wind

 

When emptiness
replaces memory

 

The wind
—forever ceases to blow

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

 

 

Maria

 

Our years are fated….

Maria’s allotment was short

But no less special,

Each minute becoming pregnant

With what time would not allow,

Each new hour

Becoming the measuring stick

Of what would never occur

 

In a bed and a room

Where only wishes and dreams

Last

To never grow into memories,

Fate would not permit

Her life to become less precious,

As the deceptive future

Steals tomorrow from today

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

 

 

 

Eight Miles Left

 

With ten more miles of fence line

my horse wants to turn back

 

There’s storm clouds over the mountain

just a small tent in my sack

 

The fence line sits all busted

from two bulls that went astray

 

They both missed being neutered

last year on roundup day

 

My hands are cold and blistered

that salve jar all but gone

 

Two wolves begin to howling

that lonesome prairie song

 

The storm clouds now have thickened

light pulls its covers back

 

Just one more night on the western slope

—with eight miles left to track

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

 

A Forever Bite

 

Poet….

Lone Wolf of the spoken word

 

Crouching in darkness

—one verse in the herd

 

Stalking his prey

far into the night

 

Attacking with feeling

   —that forever bites

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)