O Moon

Pale blue and bright,
silhouetting the earth black
against its creamy face,
while rolling, gently bouncing along the hills;
an over-inflated beach ball
that sinks upward
'til it lies at the bottom of an inky sky;
go, and spill your beauty
on the laughing faces of happy flowers
blooming in every hue.

The restlessness you drag
as if it were a tide, lends itself
to long walks in mid-night
and sleepless wrestling's.
Incongruous and strange you shine
linking each to each without magic,
while the earth replies through the night,
a deep drum beat so people can't sleep.
Tuck up your trailing vestments, O moon,
booming softly through heaven,
and allow my kneeling vigil  'neath sparse oak
an end freed disquietude.

The Pendulum

Tick tock

Tick tock

Metronome sets the pace

Tick . . . . . tock

Tick . . . . . . . . . . . tock

Time condenses to moments

and the pendulum of emotions

swings again, zenith to zenith

Victim . . . . . . . . . . . . Assassin

and back and forth

to and fro

almost perfect perpetual motion

defying gravity until

exhausted by effort required

to sustain the lie

collapsing in sorrow

sighted yet unseeing.

Promises Signed In Spirit

The promises signed in spirit,
printed on the moon's pale beam
each effervescent letter
was stamped in a running stream.

Her faith proved light,
her word was broken
having sworn an oath
'twas but a token.

With her hoarse whispered prayer
it was all over,
quit a life now old to her
with just a shrug of cold white shoulder.

The story is thin and wavering,
this story often told;
the terse lips of abandonment,
the red lips that are sold.

Flint McCullough, Man's Man

I wanted to be Flint McCullough
with his ever-vigilant eyes.
Always out in front,
experience had made him wise;

Judgement, strength, well trained steed,
spotting danger, yet second to the lead,
showing the way, offering protection,
securing provision, unfailing direction.

My first man's man,
forward thinking, anticipating needs;
that dream's been refined,
this man defined by deeds.

He's a servant
     who makes mistakes
with courage of conviction
     and private fears.
He has principles,
     can't always measure up.
He's tender-hearted
     though often tough.

Still a genuine sinner
driven in large part
to be like David,
a man after God's own heart.

To Be Certain

To be certain
I detest religious argument
finding myself a worse kind of Christian,
though an honest malcontent,
wanting that all should come to desire
to live a plane higher.
And so, late at night
my pen wrestles with characters-
the M's, R's, E's, I's, ?'s, and ;'s of thoughts,
forging into symbol the beliefs,
questions, hopes and neuroses
of a different life
taking meaning from teaching
until this story I find myself in
becomes the story in which I find myself.

Haiku 9

Spoiler rushes forth
the proud of Sodom with glee
declare: "He is down!"

The Battle Inside

Never claimed perfection
     being but a man.
The battle rages inside
     both sides have their plan.

Couldn't promise flawless;
     may be good, likely sin.
Lines blurred and crossed
     the implosion rocks within.

Not good enough,
     not what they want.
Finding out too late
     it wasn't a servant.

I've looked at life all wrong
     expecting grace returned
just because extended;
     costly lesson learned.