Spatial Memory

Don't necessarilly remember what I say . . .
Even though importance may dawn after awhile:
maybe in early morning rain, or a moving horizon.
It can happen in multiple ways.
Be ready, help others, but always
look west at nightfall and, if possible, smile.
Mostly wake facing East for a true dawn.

Forget the rest I say until my last utterance.
The early verse is mostly rehearsal . . .
the latest . . . or finally some last stanzas,
describes the sum of the state of the universe.
It's where I am when I am no longer here,
unless I am finally lost in everywhere.

Awakening

I am more us than me
but I am totally me at dawn
when I'm not sure what I see
until nuzzled by my lady fawn.

Squirrels on a Wheel

Yesterday and tomorrow are rough enough
and tomorrow and tomorrow will be rougher.
It is sometimes the way of my world
that straight or curved paths whirl
into a new reality of varieties of nonsense
sometimes coalescing into pretend sense
mostly to the left and twice to the right
for a hundred years or so
and then, again, around we go.
You can't keep the same pair of dice all night.
We mostly dance in patterns of hope
from minus to "maybe we can cope."
In my favorite world
it is not best to be a squirrel.

Today or Tomorrow

I study twirl, dance and play
mostly now, and maybe even pray.
I cannot remain longer in yesterday.

I do not anticipate our tomorrow,
until I hear the dawn that follows,
and the difference is immense.

What we do and what we may,
are opposite ends of a chasm of tense
and could sink a world you know.
I will continue twirling toward dance

We Are In Charge

The last time we spoke
I may have seemed out of focus;
maybe due to a swarm of locusts
appearing from the northeast.

The little devils want to feast
on everything in the forest.
(I've ended singing a half-tone higher
from muddy-pies to sky-eye pies.)

There needs no excuse, nothing is obscure;
we are already almost past having a cure.
We are always simply smart and focused
on such flights as these luckless locusts.

We are in charge.

A Year Ago, a Moment, and Just Now

Sometimes it seems that choice
includes a bit of alternate stronger voice
beyond our recognized youthful pale.
Some new friend showing another trail?

Expect a choice of results from multiple paths,
yesterday, tomorrow, next week or just now.
The sun always rises with an appearance of solid truth,
a permanence, but maybe not thought thru.

Who can guess where we may decide to go
with the sun in splendor and the moon aglow?
So sigh, roll over, wink at the sky:
remember some tricks to try.

Let's just settle back into the yellow hammock,
wrap ourselves in our arms and count our luck.

Awakening

Black coffee before the yellow sun rises
muddying my view with its variant colors.

Even with the yellow sun almost in my eye
I am defiant and glance toward the darker sky.

Black coffee allows a truer reality of the day
without wind tossing about nets of stray colors.

Oh, I love the ritual of the rising of the sun
but I am myself more totally without such swirls.

Let suns control their worlds;
but know, they do not control me
until after I drink my black coffee.