Short Measuring Stick Poems

A mother is down on her knee,
begging to spare her dying baby -
she prays.

A man cannot conceal his glee,
winning a million in the lottery -
why pray?

Life’s measuring stick, a prayer: 
when trouble hits, we need it more,
if things smell like roses, out the door!...

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Responsibility

A question of burden:
imagining a future
where responsibility falls..
Light or heavy
is the measuring stick
which swings at
us all..
There is variation:
light to one
heavy to another..
These are perceptions
which result from
imagining departure
from our
peace just now..
However..might we
observe these departures
from our peaceful place
 allowing their departure
within our peace...?...

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Our years are fated…
Maria’s allotment was short
But no less special
Each moment becoming pregnant
With what time would not allow
Each new hour
The measuring stick
Of what would never occur

In a bed and a room
Where only wishes and dreams 
Last
To never grow into memories
Fate would not permit
Her life to become less precious
As the deceptive future
  —steals tomorrow from today

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)...

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Our years are fated….
Maria’s allotment was short
But no less special,
Each minute becoming pregnant
With what time would not allow,
Each new hour
Becoming the measuring stick
Of what would never occur

In a bed and a room
Where only wishes and dreams 
Last
To never grow into memories,
Fate would not permit
Her life to become less precious,
As the deceptive future
Steals tomorrow from today

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)...

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