devoid of matter

full of substance

souls are stories

spun

from silver space

and golden time

each is a valiant

epic

told anew around

an ancient campfire

and echoing through

time

our ethereal souls

leap into the sky

like these burning

sparks

to abide forever

among the timeless

constellations of

stars

 

Once upon a time machine

He fashioned from a box

With nothing more than crayons

And a cache of broken clocks

The little boy went scooting

Down the corridors of time

And it was all so easy

For a young and open mind

But now the boy’s a physicist

And studies all his days

To learn to build a time machine

In complicated ways

And every day it’s clearer

What his facts and figures mean:

That only little boys can build

A real time machine

Japan gave us

Quite the black eye

When they bombed

Pearl Harbor that day

But unlike your

Usual shiner

This one would

Not go away

So we gave them

Back two black eyes

And the fighting

Finally did cease

And now I guess

You could say

We are living

In black-eyed peace

it’s a smokey-sky morning

under a cream soda sun

fires from afar spread

a brown-tinged sadness

smudging the sky

the fence throws

a checkerboard

on the hazel lawn

the pigeons are pink

the smoke brings

with it a certain hush–

as if we’re all waiting

for something to happen

under this cream soda sun

as pure as a child’s tear

as deep as a galaxy’s core

as true as a still morning echo

our omnia vincit amor

 

stronger than old mighty sampson

lighter than gossamer lace

closer than guardian angels

our souls bear a fiery embrace

Old hippies still believe

In a paradigm shift in

Global consciousness

That will usher in

A new age of grace

And peace on Earth

 

Old hippies still believe

That goodness triumphs

Over ignorance in time

And all the world will

Attain enlightenment

And become as one

 

Old hippies still believe

In the Golden Rule

And preserving

Our Mother Earth

I know because

I’m one of them

 

–Photo of me by my son

 

For weeks we had camped

In the Land of the Loon;

Now our spirits were damped–

We were leaving too soon.

How we wished we were staying!

Here we felt so in tune

With our playing and laying

‘Neath our own sun and moon.

our little mid-western

town was truly blessed

the day she was born

she was beautiful

inside and out

so beautiful

that the other girls

weren’t even jealous

it was beyond that

she made them feel

proud to be her friend

proud that their kind

had produced such

an exquisite creature

her radiant smile

could reach out

and cure illness

every single person

she had ever met

instantly loved her

ached for her

she was so gorgeous

that shy boys ran

her angelic radiance

enveloped our town

and we thrived

but the day came

when she looked west

west, where her and

her kind belonged

she moved out to L.A.

and somehow

we went on in our

little farming town

but it was never

the same

flittering, fluttering

lighter than dust

she’s flaunting

her marbled

mahogany wings

and even the flowers

are so envious

they stare

on their stalks

at the beauty

she brings

–Photo by me