Left behind like the wind
May be not too far away
left behind like the wind
Like the moon light shadows me
Everywhere I go
There is a piece of agony
That follows me
Left behind like the wind
A stream that rushes in my body
Not knowing what to do
Fireflies dance in my head
yet no light in my mind
Left behind like the wind
Where the stone is stuck deep inside
Even a single leaf so still, not to move
as the leaf of life sleeps upon my lips
Left behind like the wind
You came into my life
like a hunger I never knew I had,
and somehow
I began craving something
I could never have.
There was something beautiful
about the danger in you,
something I knew
I should stay away from,
yet still found myself
walking closer.
Maybe I saw myself in you.
The darkness,
the loneliness,
the parts we keep hidden
behind a smile.
You were never mine,
but somehow
you left pieces of yourself
inside me.
And now I wonder—
was I drawn to you
because you were different,
or because you carried
the same emptiness
I had been trying to hide?
Maybe some people
are not meant to stay.
Maybe they're only meant
to awaken something in us,
then leave us
to deal with the hunger
they created.
And if that's what you were—
I still don't regret
meeting you.
She greets us with a smile,
won't hesitate to go the extra mile.
She always has a kind word,
as genuine as a songbird.
No one would ever know
she lost her son two weeks ago.
The hallways buzz, the clock ticks slow, There’s something real you ought to know. Forget the past, the family tree, This isn't about history.
Beyond the grades, the age, the noise, Above the usual crowd of boys, It’s you I notice, clear and true, I just needed you to know I like you.
When I consider what’s behind…
Was I gracious? Was I kind?
I pray my children came to know
how very much…I loved them so.
And to my wife did I give praise,
when she felt low…her spirits raise?
Did I help folks along life’s way
find peace and truth…urge them to pray?
And after I have gone ahead,
God’s plan for me, what will be said?
but that I strove, the world to show,
that Jesus, all, should come to know.
Now near the end of earthly time,
and soon I’ll have to leave this space,
and place myself in God’s good grace.
Lord. Let them know, they’re on my mind.
-Then at my wake-
And now that I am good and gone,
will they remember me for long?
Will they lift a glass…sing a song,
and wish I still could join along?
Sail away with me, my darling, to distant lands
leave the past behind us while we still can
Dare it to catch us, ever onward sail
this small vessel ~ our everlasting jail
It is raining outside! I gaze at the photograph
of my mother!... a young child!... playing in the rain!
Her long, jet-black hair is dripping
onto her dress!... the embroidered flowers are drinking it in.
Barefoot in that captured moment of running—
one foot touches the earth on tiptoe,
the other is in the air!... she balances there, carefree.
Her small hands, like tender tree shoots—
one reaches forward as if following someone,
the other trails behind as if beckoning someone.
The sun shines upon her rosy cheeks;
stars and the moon swim within her eyes.
Outside, the rain has stopped! Through the windowpane
I see blooming flowers dancing in the breeze,
I hear the rustling of trees,
I see the sun’s rose at dusk, at dawn,
and night’s soft, ebony scarf
embroidered with stars and the moon;
I see my mother!... out there!... calling to me!
Through the windowpane… the rain is dripping!
your voice trails behind me
lost in the shadows of the hallways
silence amidst the din of existence
colors hold no warmth
dawn only brings time moving
watching the children in the park
lost in the joy of playground entertainment
the future has a secure ambiance
a smile wanders across my face
it is a painting hanging in a gallery
your voice trails behind me
lost in the shadows of the hallways
there are no real mysteries to life
only answers in the cauldron
then you walk into the room
and the enchantment in life returns
as Van Morrison wrote
have I told you lately, i love you
conveys the deepest love we share
the breath of Creation
Oregon 9/5/26
i could feel coldness
your waters rushing bare feet
as i sink in sand
Sad memories to past belong,
as sunlight slides behind the hill
she thinks of what has come and gone,
how love once lived so very strong
but ended young by war’s sharp prong~
she longs for her lost lover still
and hears the call of their heart song
as sunlight slides behind the hill!
I catch my own eyes in the bathroom mirror
before I even turn the cold water on.
I watch every quiet, hopeful plan I made
get quietly picked apart and gone.
I wear this skin, I answer to my name,
I’m the author of every doubt I hide.
I pull down my own small victories
and stand my own worst foe, inside.
When 5 a.m. hits with its pale blue light
and promises a second chance to try,
I drag out old mistakes from years ago
just to give myself a reason why.
I tell myself I am not man enough,
that every step forward is a fake,
that the moment things get steep or real
I’ll bend beneath the weight and break.
I sit at my desk in the afternoon slump,
building a maze out of unread mail.
I lock the doors, throw away the keys,
and then wonder why I’m set to fail.
I dissect every single word I said,
turning harmless moments into debt.
I don't need anyone to tear me down,
I haven't even given myself a chance yet.
And yet I'm the one who holds the pen,
the one who keeps writing out the fear.
If I'm the architect of all this noise,
I'm the only one who can clear it from here.
SEPTEMBER'S POSTSCRIPT
The amber calendar dissolves,
leaving September behind to
inherit the melancholic residue
of our ephemeral summer.
The equinox arrives, a quiet
guillotine of gold,
servering the incandescent
warmth we used to hold.
September recedes, leaving a
skeletal landscape behind,
and the calcified architecture of
a love designed
in the reckless crucible of July's
blinding blaze,
now reduced to the twilight of
these shortening days.
Your absence is a reminiscence
that deeply hyperventilates,
an unforgettable phantom that
never truly abates.
I am trapped in the
retrospection of your quiet
silhouette,
navigating the imperishable
cartography of my own regret.
Every fallen leaf is a
memorandum of what we
could not save,
a fragile, amber monument
above a silent, emotional grave.
I am paralyzed by this heavy,
internal compunction,
standing alone at our love's
abandoned junction.
The autumn wind whisper of a
bittersweet commemoration,
of a fleeting, brilliant spark lost
to sudden isolation.
September leaves behind the
frost of what will never be,
locking your ghost forever in
the vault of my memory.
Trails before me
The guiding light of all who look
The veiling dark betwixt each star
The crumbled rook
The waning breath of who we are
Or whom we mistook ourselves to be
In sleepless fantasy
Fades as voiceless memory
Gazes upon a faceless sea
Turning, we weep
As silent ends the dream.
Pierces, the waking
The heart stirs once more
Beating with fierce unknown fear
We stept once more thro' trouble's door
We make our way in lonely dreare
If happiness greets us,
We'll away from here,
But no eyes dare we cross, or meet
We watch the ground 'neath our feet
Lest it fall away on some nameless street
And we fall double lost
To the waves of defeat.
Stare up toward the star that blinds
Know that nothing in the null binds
That the rush of life
Are the flowers of the eye
Frail and intricate beautiful
But ultimately a lie
Dream bears more weight
Than you or I
And the hour is late,
I’m afraid.
I stood looking out the window,
searching for a vision of you,
but the blinds stood between us,
hiding what my heart once knew.
If I pulled the strings and let in the light,
would I see your face again?
Or would your memory slowly disappear,
like shadows fading at the day's end?
The honest answer is—I don't know.
So I let the darkness take control,
while two strings move gently up and down,
like tired eyes protecting the soul.
Opening and closing,
revealing what I’m afraid to find,
because sometimes what blocks our vision
isn't the window—it's the mind.
If only you could see the secrets
hidden quietly behind these blinds,
memories my heart keeps sheltered
from the searching eyes of light.
So I remain inside this silent room,
where yesterday still survives,
adjusting my eyes to the darkness
while your memory waits behind the blinds.
Remember why you left, leaving behind what you left behind.
Smoke getting thicker with each passing breath in this line.
Weight becomes heavier, close to crushing one’s chest.
Slowly it happens; time passes with no rest.
Glancing at the clock, screaming, “I got this all wrong.”
Doors close when shut and open once received.
Barefoot is the one who stands on hot coals and refuses to leave.
Stagnant is the one who was given the tools but did not receive.
Washing up like seashells often do upon the shore,
most are similar to another.
But the rare ones are able to whisper unspoken secrets to the waves,
having the sea return answers only an ocean would know.
The constant pull, the true ebb and flow.
The instrumental foundation of lyrics being revealed to the soul.
A frequency within, decoding the heart.
When one track ends, the next track starts.
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