~Nature~

Spring's Ceaseless Fight to Be

20 March 2007
Headingley, England

Though dark winter clouds brood in sky's background,
Spring's tender flowers and leaves are budding,
Despite arctic zephyrs and snow flurries,
Green grass carpets cover parks and meadows,

¿Who has firm grasp on day's reality,
Sad cynic casting 'bout for doom and gloom, —
Or optimist with 'morrows hopes and dreams?
It's hard at this time's junction clear to see;

But past experience allows us to predict,
That though at summer's end no fruit shall bear,
Because this winter's errant behavior,
Froze life's potential as it sallied forth,

That seasons four will progress through this year,
As surely day increases her light's length,
Because sun's clockwork equinox moves on,
And time a cycle has to life ordained.​

 

Dreams of Eden

23 March 2007
Headingley, England

A Technicolor dream of Eden came,
In vivid colours and flavours it spread,
Yellow sunlight and sweet breezes before,
Night's moon had given up her dark domain;

Somewhere inside that screen Thou gaily played,
Among flowers bizarre in size and shape,
Huge daffodils extending to sky's blue,
Surrounded by pink lilies in black pools;

There was no making sense of what was there,
All juxtapositions quite natural,
For in Thy constant happiness and joy,
No constraints to what could be were ordained;

I still remember summer cotton dress,
That followed Thy form as Thou frolicked on,
Thy long hair's gossamer flowed through clear air,
As nymphs of old teased and enchanted Pan;

What magick dream, — to have glimpsed Eden's fay,
Is wonder beyond what gods should soul give,
A treasure firmer than reality,
In coin that only heart can true possess.​

 

Thou, Spring, art joy

22 April 2007
Prague, Czech Republic

So what's the purpose and the meaning of,
That perfect body that Thou share with me?
Can intimations of Thy symmetry,
Give life potentials of futures to be?

Thou art a Spring of feelings in my life,
As I forest full of paths to Thee,
& In the confluence of Time & Place,
Lies mystery enough for Heaven's grace,

I promise Thee freely my blessings strange,
Unbounded by any condition's range,
For in the green Thy season brings to me,
Have blossomed possibilities of joy,

Where songbirds clear express symmetry's song,
As Thy fresh zephyrs have caressed closed buds,
Warming up saps that have long dormant lain,
To burst in a profusion of fresh blooms​

.

 

back running after 2 weeks

28 April 2007
Headingley, England

It's a gorgeous day and nearly Summer,
Most of the broad-leafed trees are set in green,
The low-slant sun fills everything with gold,
As my Italian friend and I jog on,

He soon starts a running commentary,
"Man, if I brought a few of these blondes back,
To my village the men would go crazy!"
I laugh for I can see the episode,

As an entire village comes to standstill,
While all the men stare and gape at the show, —
It's Spring and all life's blooms are out in force,
But, I'm struggling to set my running pace,

For I sprained my ankle and laid weeks off, —
We start up a hill and there's a young guy,
Rollerblading and falling on his ass, —
The skates remind me of a night in Prague,

Sidewalks are full of guys and gals on foot,
My friend comments on each gal that we pass,
I tell him to run faster for a while,
He spurts ahead in a fast sprint and smiles,

Eventually he comes back and explains,
"¿Man, did you see that one that just walked by?"
I grin and continue my easy jog,
Till we run 1.5 miles to Hyde Park, —

My friend goes off to run a few more miles,
While I go back to finish just my three,
I ease past a patch of dandelions,
Emblazoned in warm summer afterglow,

I've found my groove again and I'm with Thee,
Talking about these little round flowers, —
Time flees, — and all is golden motion's wake,
I reach the start of a long hill and see,

The rollerblading guy's falling again,
There's people coming out from everywhere,
Corner cafés rattle their cups and plates,
Above conversations full of loud din,

Running uphill and against soft breezes,
I can smell strong perfumes meters before,
Scantily clad British girls pass me by,
But I seem to be impervious to,

The Spring surge that in men they seek to bring,
And some smells nearly choke me as if with gas,
It must be a strong immune reaction,
That is brought on by Thy vaccination.​

 

Planets & Moons & Suns & Such

4 May 2007
Headingley, England

—1—

Our orbits form life's destiny complete,
So size and mass drive life's Necessity,
To at fixed distances move round hot sun, —
Such complex motions no equation holds,
Only the briefest quantum state of Love.

—2—

A certain mass to hold an atmosphere,
A distance not too far or not too close,
A spin preventing one side to hot boil,
While a dark side freezes in icy frost, —
Such tangled circumstances for Love's life.

—3—

Across ether's void fusion's light streams here,
So many colors blended to pure white,
Differentiating blue for oxygen,
Turning iron red when it flows inside, —
Blood tides that come and go with Love's sea brine.

—4—

Of moons shattering on their hard planets,
Of planets melting in their sun's hot cores,
There's little history but meteors,
That belted form flat rings round gas planets,
Or solitary roam wide universe.

—5—

Even if man could measure all forces,
Even if reason could explain all things,
It could never defy fate's entropy,
And how small things can wobbly orbits shake, —
Or why vast universe folds on Love's seam.​

 

Spring Views

9 May 2007
Headingley, England

—"1"—

My room only has views in wintertime,
In spring tall trees that line the road in front,
Blush lush with canopies of spring-green leaves, —
But nothing ever blocks Thy clarity.

——

Clear long-range views of purple hills now gone,
Have ceded to a profusion of greens,
Inside of which throng songbirds that wake me, —
As Thou warbler of Prague enraptured me.

—"2"—

There are no visions of children playing
From this 4-story room from which eyes rove,
There is no balcony on which Thou sun
Thy tawny fur dotted with lentigos.

—"3"—

It's rare, a morning clear, in Headingley,
Perhaps this fey occasion with bird trills,
Awoke me from my reveries of Thee, —
But maybe it was just time to write Thee.

——

The sun is now high enough to slant in,
A five forty-five a. m. appointment,
Reminding me which way to look to find, —
That magic Prague where Thou enchanted live.​

 

less sun penumbral grays

13 May 2007
Leeds, England

still pretty without sun city garden
although colors lack specificity
eye can't seem to grab on intensities
and heart misses yellowes flirtatious winks

or is it gray that seems to dampen moods
more than cool drizzle that is falling down
coating sheep wool jacket with moist dew drops

as if this was just a prelude for morn
and moon was still in her dominant phase
before sun came out and all clarified​

 

5 a.m. conversations

14 May 2007
Headingley, England

It's five o'clock and dark and drizzling rain, —
Outside songbirds twitter and chirp to friends,
That far away in Prague lyrical chant,
Pouring their hearts in song before day's sun,
Has risen to bring with it city noise;

They're immersed in a deep green canopy,
Of twenty meter high well-formed maples, —
And singing in crepuscular quiet,
Allows them to retain old traditions,
Without competing against motor roars;

But I like to think that they sing from soul,
Knowing how heart-to-heart Thou and I talk, —
With love of each other's expressiveness,
With frank sincerity and deepest care, —
To form heart's conversation for lifetime.​

 

Spin, Charm, Color and Charge

14 May 2007
Headingley, England

many long years
I dreamed of Thee
changing reality's
hard edge

as if life's quantum state in
encapsulated syzygy
longed to create
an eden here on earth​

 

Calculating Hearts

15 May 2007
Headingley, England

¿How is it that sometimes our machine hearts,
Will lose their syncopation or skip beats?
¿Is it because nerve linings electric,
Have imperfections in their pacing leads?
¿Or is it that complex neuron webs must,
Occasionally wander chaos way?

Impossible to say of connections,
With billions of ends of fire and spark, —
More than deterministic computer,
This calculator weird of quantum states,
That seeks and finds through syzygy true love, —
And dwells in time and space and soul's domain.​

 

Villanelle -- In the Quiet of Night's End

19 May 2007
Prague, Czech Republic

In the quiet that announces night's end,
I wake up elbow-to-elbow with Thee,
A little songbird fills morn's dark with song,

Illegibly I jot this one line down,
For skillful harmony enraptures me,
In the quiet that announces night's end,

Thou art fast asleep with Thy gold hair crown,
Dreaming of Heaven while I glance at Thee,
A little songbird fills morn's dark with song,

Thy face is smooth: no signs of worried frown,
That during work perturbed sometimes I see,
In the quiet that announces night's end,

Thou softly breathe in Thy gossamer gown,
With rhythm gentle as dawn tropic breeze,
A little songbird fills morn's dark with song,

A perfect melody with trilling sound,
That with Thy peaceful face sends me to bliss,
In the quiet that announces night's end,
A little songbird fills morn's dark with song,​

 

Green Smells

24 May 2007
Headingley, England

Infatuated with new mown grass smell
I ran over meadows recently cut
Inspired to breathe deeply chlorophyll taste
Intimated by our long walks in spring, —

Insinuating as Thy musk perfume
Insistence gentle of Thy fragrant scent​

 

Jogging to Sun's Warmth

26 July 2007
Headingley, England

It's a routine affixed this daily run
Even on days like this so gloomy gray
The habit's formed and drives my legs to move
O'er pavement, over grass and over rock

It's still a cool, cool English summer here
So I put on some sweats to stop slight breeze
Slow stretch and then I'm down tile stairs and out
Jogging past stately maples dressed in green

Thick air's so laden with moisture and dew
But it's not raining, — water just wisps out
Caressing me as I make way uphill, —
Wide meadow beckons me to run on it

With slippery blades of wet grass and mud
I adjust my stride so as not to fall, —
The weather forecast is for more cold rain
But my thoughts are on Caribbean sun​

 

As Sun Rises Along a Tropic Shore

15 August 2007
Las Terrenas, Dominican Republic

There are small ripples on sea from soft winds
Before day's breezes upturn waves of blue
I run along where water laps tan sand
An undulating periphery marked
By tides drawn by new moon that now has set

The miles go quickly by, — there's no one here
Except the early barefoot fishermen
& Random stray dogs congregated now
Under an alpha male that snarls & nips
& Lunges fiercely at the slightest threat
Until submissive challenger lays down
Like some white tuft upon cerulean

I've been set free but now am more bound up
As body surges quickening my steps
Every nerve feels life's pulse and love's refrain

Both lungs fill with cool morning clarity, —
Clear oxygen to propel heart & soul, —
Running towards a rising sun full of hope
Since I'll be back jogging along this beach
Knowing white moon's surge will come back to me​

 

That Cat, Not Strange

29 August 2007
Headingley, England

A late afternoon run upon meadows
So softly sinuous on moving feet
Brings melodies and harmonies to heart
With no melancholy as sun slow sets, —

Yellow crepuscular circle glides down
Like autumn sear in cool British summer
Dry maple leaves twirling and swirling round
Doomed by day's gray to fall before their time

It's gravity I know that calls their doom
As surely as it makes day's orb to set
Each with a schedule set precise in time
Not the wild ramblings that my life oft takes

Although no one predicts soul's resting place
When in life's journey they in youth embark
With all that random chance brings to the game
That we try so hard to manipulate

Still, things come of their own accord unasked, —
As I walk briskly to cool-off I see
A white and gray cat that's approaching me, —
Didn't look to see its eyes, — O, that's the trick!​

 

There, That Vast Empty House

2 September 2007
Manchester, England

Bright memories of painted sand dunes tinged
Red from ephemeral summer showers
Inspiring cactus blooms to purple blush

In that there is much similarity
To love seeking to find inspiration
In places barren — destitute of green

Where sun's strong rays burn all to golden glow —
Only sharp thorns or strong poisons survive
For there no compromise is given heart

Soul lingers is a vast dry emptiness
But, — there I slept with star-filled nights less clouds
And there mind found a stoic nature pure
With peace that comes to heart that's found a home​

 

Harvest Moon Quatrains

26 September 2007
Headingley, England

—1—

Running towards bright harvest moon seems odd
I know that no matter how fast I plod
She will ascend and descend at her rate
For I am bound to only leap on sod

—2—

Half of my run is to her round semblance
Half of my run is away from her face
Yet nothing changes in our distance far
Half of her life hiding from sun's full rays

—3—

Celestial motions bring syzygy
Tomorrow's opposition, — mystery
When sun briefly glances at full moon bright
Just light's reflection without misery

—4—

I'm glad Thou art not moon but mortal too,
For I know that Thy feelings are like mine,
A glow of passion that lights fierce short life, —
With warmth that fuses two red hearts as one.

—°—​

 

Autumn Rays

21 October 2007
Headingley, England

How subtle sun's yellow when she sublimes
Soft across late afternoon's green meadows
Each exhaled breath gray misty fog in swirl
With heart content at run's feeling of fey​

 

Gray Autumn Thoughts

26 October 2007
Headingley, England

Two weeks of sunshine now gray gloom is back,
Two days of running without sun or moon,
¿What gyroscope is it that keeps routine, —
So regular amidst life's constant change?

At times I think it's years of discipline,
At other moments I know that's not true,
For there's a yearning full of hope still waits,
All boundaries of voyage to breeze through.​

 

Before Cool Rain

27 October 2007
Headingley, England

Inviting gray anticipatory, —
Stillness just before an autumn rainfall
As I run over dry leaves in wet sweats
Nearly oblivious of what time does well

Those little aches and pains that come and go
More frequently than just on an odd day
Reminder that this soft earth 'neath my feet
Will one day more than cushion, absorb me​