poems

a step , a footing,

A distance, each day we strive

By being alive …

Picking up the gauntlet’s throw

Taking on the archer’s bow .

© CMM. 2020

I woke

A morning pulls me to go out of doors

And stand among the cosmos

To allow the lights to christen

Into promise, will I be witness?

God is listening,

The universe displays his breath.

Shhh, it says,

Pray.

© CMM. 2020

Flowers sent today

Valentine’s a sweet array

Swells the aroma

Of today’s remembrance

Echoes of Shakespeare’s semblance.

©. 2020 CMM

Twilight crest after

midnight storm gives way to verdant

grass, and hope appears …

© CMM 2019

we will both grow old,
our youth wasted in time

rusted planks of life
jutting out

feeling the days gone past
looking for a sign

we will understand how
little time we tout

until now, we look and see
our hands and body weathered

I will smile and feel the
glow of our youth

even though the shifts
are tethered

 

Copyright:   2019  CMM

Just before birds sing

And daylight on horizon;

contemplation.

CMM @ 2018

the magenta bloom

misty morn no rain in site

Our climate warning

 

@CMM  2018

Tempest ages of tales from lofts

of organs and replicas of saints.

Covered icons to express a time

quiet memories of prayers unsaid.

Whispered among the pews of

the faithful few, wanting …

humanity is deafened to creation.

Signs and wonders are fewer

as ages of hopeful hopeless.

Crossing always into a river of regret

it never matters if we are aware.

It is who we are as oneness,

it is who we are as togetherness

from the beginning, to the recognition

just before, just before the river of regret.

 

Copyrighted 2018  CMM

flickering morning fire

quietly throws warmth

across the shadows

no sleep lifts me up

from my warm bed

to sit in the dark

thinking, weighted

yesterdays forge

into serenity

praying in resolution

knowing the day

will be full

Copyright:  2018  CMM

 

I remember your silver retro tree

 

sitting on your desk,

 

the ornaments of blue reflecting

 

years past of the-other-day.

 

 

I smile to remember our verbal

 

folly of the tacky tree

 

You would reply, it is the best,

 

and I would smile, and say ok.

 

 

The truth is, it was the best.

 

Memories of drive-in movies

 

and sock hops reflected in the light

 

of the mulit-color turning wheel.

 

 

I remember your silver tree,

 

your jolly laugh of folly and doo-wop.

 

Jokes of the past being the best of all.

 

I now remember,  smile, and miss you.

 

 

Copyrighted:  2017 CMM

 

RIP  Prof. Doo-wop (2012)