Where do all the people go,
The ones who share the road?
For certainly not everyone
Is in vacation mode.
Are they visiting a relative
Or dropping in on friends?
Maybe off to work or out to shop?
The traffic never ends.
I wish that I could stop each car
And take a little poll,
But certainly such action
Would exact a heavy toll.
For the last thing that is needed
Is to interrupt the flow,
So as far as where they’re headed,
Well, I guess I’ll never know.
Like an Ibis Headed Scribe recording the Great Mysteries Of Life
with a Pen Of Light,
I Tap In, you Drip the Gnosis
you plant the Knowledge, I shall Harvest it's Grain
and together we shall Unite under the Sun again,
Ever Higher, in Grace... I Make Haste to the 9th Gate
I went to a barbers just the other day
Light in the head' it was; that i
Came away.'
When all of eight, the sole measure was age
To gauge stature, I scarce could wait to grow
To be ten, get entitled to the rage
Of wearing long trousers deemed nigh high-brow.
When ten, to reach the ripe age of thirteen--
To wear the badge of a teenager’s stance--
Tempestuous age of acne-marked skin,
Angst and (what else?) adolescent romance.
No looking back, head that looked just ahead,
And soon I was eyeing three scores and ten,
Found me on wrong side of my mid life’s dread,
Janus in me tried looking back if can.
That’s what we all are-- never here and now,
In search of a wish tree, Kamdhenu cow!
_____________________________________
Sonnet | 04.02.2026 | age, cow, future, now, past, (wish) tree
Note: Man is a strange animal. When cozy and cool in winter, he dreams of spring and summer. Now when warm enough, he thinks of cool showers of rain. Anywhere but here and now. Kamdhenu (Sanskrit, kaam=wish, desire. dhenu=cow) is the proverbial cow of plenty.
On move seldom in a preset sequence,
Life unfolds with its own whims and fancies
As day gets dawned-- a gift of existence,
In whose own rhythm everything dances.
A life is no novel read page to page,
It gets read, unfolding onward as goes,
I bow to past for wisdom, for its age
As it gets past its graveyard of shadows
To be ready to take on new journey
With an empty bag and an open mind
That I take on challenges uncanny
And still keep options on, to peek from hind.
The year past by let be Janus-headed,
Life evolves only when it looks ahead.
____________________________
Sonnet | 11.01.2026 | future, life, Ney Year, past
Note: This is in continuation of the poem ‘Old memories, new dreams’.
my dog could put my leg into his mouth if he wanted to
hid mouth takes on an alligator's opening when he yawns
he is the biggest-headed-dog we have ever had
and we have had twenty-two dogs
his neck is Herculean
he is strong enough to pull a sleigh of Republicans up a mountain
and he is a baby
only fifteen months old
highland bull came to us on a lovely spring day
we could tell by his high kicks he was ready to play
a pink butterfly with plethora of dots futtered his way
He was not shy in giving her a “hey, hey, hey, hey!”
Wondered if he had wandered from the Meadows in Bray
Had no idea how to get him back there that day
A full schedule meant he would have to stay and play
We did give him feed, and a soft pace to lay
The pallet we made him was filled with the softest hay
Not his fault he is lost, said my cousin Lucie McKay
When we returned from work, he had meandered away
We were thrilled we had a Highland Bull for almost a day
my dogs have big heads
enormous teeth
they look fierce
tigers would back down
they are both mama’s boys
not frightening in the least
if you are me
Before we parted ways at the bus station, we tenderly kissed.
Before departing for my journey, I realized I'll be missed.
Before we met, we never thought we'd find a love like this.
New cracks in old stone
Just beginning to show,
Reveals things never shown
Things only one could know
Just beginning to show
A solid surface scrambles,
Things only one could know
Shedding into shambles
A solid surface scrambles
Every chisel brings a change,
Shedding into shambles
In time, it must arrange
Every chisel brings a change
Upon hard - headed rock,
In time, it must arrange
For none can beat the clock
Upon hard - headed rock
Reveals things never shown,
For none can beat the clock
New cracks in old stone.
She used to think she could fly, she would jump off the couch and it seemed so high. She lost sense of the air but her childhood could not compare.
She went to Saturn instead where she had freedom that was self-led, so more worries no more excuses, no more waiting for a savior to tell her reality is gone.
She took the world into her own hands, she used to think she could fly, she figured out soon it was all planned out so to Saturn she wondered about, she skated from one ring to the other.
Better than the life she knew, but frankly she didn’t have a clue, didn't know wrong from right all she knew is that her life was taking flight.
She felt as if everything she was used to had been washed away and she couldn’t have been in more of a mixture of disbelief and array, a satisfaction that blew her away.
She pondered the stars and this was her newest adventure by far.
an owl stared at Maya from a fence post
she knew it was a sign from the great father
no ordinary fowl, this one had a red head
there would be a death before the end of day
according to a Navajo proverb
Maya was especially kind to her family that day
wondering who it would be, hoping it was not her son
he had already had a bad week, a mean bout with chickenpox
she thought of the owl all day
her next door neighbor passed in his sleep that night
Maya felt a bit of relief
knowing the owl had never been meant for her
Hard Headed
By: Miracle Man
6/3/2024
You’re “more stubborn than a splinter” a friend once said,
Many times, fight finished, I thought should have just fled.
During each angry test,
I wasn’t always the best,
And my mom always told me, Son you have a hard head.
The group of brown headed cowbirds I hope is migratory
I really don't want them staying in my yard
They are parasitic and can be devastating for other species
As they are lazy or sorry or ill mannered or whatever term is correct
They lay their eggs in another bird's nest
That mom or the two parents are not any wiser
And they feed and look after those eggs
Just as though they were their own
However, the cowbird is usually larger
And starve their other nest mates
Cruel, uncaring might be a better word
For the parents of those little offsprings
I know they don't think ahead
Because if they did they might figure it out
If their eggs are hatched, then their chicks fed
The other bird population gradually dies out
Then what???
They might have to go to work....
Then that could be the end of the birds upon this earth
pink headed warbler
loves insects in evergreen
dislike fall places
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