They paint desire on a billboard sky,
plant hunger where no hunger grew,
whisper you are less until you buy
the wholeness they invented too.
The worker rises, makes the thing,
his hands the origin of the gain,
then buys it back, a offering
to feed the loop that built his chain.
Screens flicker like a slow-cast spell,
each jingle laced with borrowed need,
the common man, both source and well,
tilled twice to make another feed.
Profit floats to a distant shelf,
counted where the maker's not,
while he, who built it with himself,
owns nothing but the wanting bought.
Satisfaction, packaged, sold,
returns to hands that never labored,
the dream is his, the coin is cold,
and someone else's ledger's favored.
Wake, they say but not too far,
just far enough to reach the door,
where want is manufactured, a star
pointing always back to more.
Healing and dealing
Stealing and reeling
Feeling the feeling
Wheelies down the spillway
Three’s a thrill
Another bill
Still...
I will!
Chill, with the window sill,
Skilled at raiding the mills,
Tilled until everyone who wants a chance can dance until-
The rest are nil haikus 4 reiki suing spells four ewe
I’ll hang with Jill ... s
Partaking of the gifts of grace,
where each indulgence we release,
leaving no trace of love’s embrace,
we flow thus with nonchalant ease.
We have an unfair advantage,
being charged with bliss magnetism,
so we are free though in this cage,
of illumined mind-body prism.
As God’s child, each wish is fulfilled,
provided of course heart be pure
and the fertile soul of love tilled.
Our vibrant persona demure,
we seek nothing and yet we know,
divine entwined we are secure.
garden flowers wilt
weeping of their short lives
before tilled away
the earth has been tilled
planted by the farmer's hand
now we wait to reap
Earth worm roves the soil.
He dives into the tilled loam
as I lumber by.
I planted my seeds
I tilled the soil plot
Removed skin layers
Unlocked all my locks
I created new friends
I lost some old ones
Prayer and faith remain
God’s working in the dark
Do I celebrate early?
I pray to control pride
True hope should not jinx it
Readying His miracle
Tears fall from our sadness
As the white dove flies away
on the wind of burning fires
into the unknown realm
Away from the dead and dying
whose voices were heard like a fine flute
Those who live gather shadows in the wilderness
trying to recall the white dove of peace
to refresh the soul
Chased by the evil hearts of men
who have crushed the peacemakers
on the rocks of bloody shores
dispersing them with the shattered remnants
of peaceful life
spreading them over a vast sea of years
Where civilizations were built, then destroyed
like green meadows to be plowed under
tilled, over and over
seeded with the blood and bones of peaceful people
Whose souls are buried in the wretched soil
of conquerors
whose soldiers trampled the sacred ground of peace
leaving nothing
But vultures gliding in circles above the rising smoke
Lifting the white dove away
Far above the crushed ashes of those dreaming of peace
As tears fall from our sadness
The White Dove stays away
Afternoon sunlight angled deep and low
Across the flooded fields of sunflowers aglow
Massive strips of sparkling yellow fairy light
Travelling over green and ochre tilled lands bright
With drops of rain, like tears from late day showers
On giant comic faces and trembling leafy hands
Each bizarre and staring flower posing in sunshine stands
And seems to laugh, echoes of forgotten renaissance heroes
Lost in breezes in farm fields of known and knowing flowers
Three thousand years of pain
One hundred and fifty generations,
Can we define this as insane
A cauldron full of grief and trepidation.
No one deserves this sorry fate
Enslaved and dispossessed,
Wondering the world as human freight
Herded and processed.
Yet there lies across the fence
A people just as ravaged,
Between the twain a situation tense,
That by history's sad fate - has too been savaged.
Israelis and Palestinians divided by their faith,
Fighting over dirt their grandfather's tilled,
Where once was pride in sense of place,
Now lonely graves where blood was
Spilled.
Is there an answer - a solution to this sorrow,
Where cousins in but name may coexist,
Or are we yet to see more wars to follow,
And not from killing to desist.
The future is not mine to give,
But a prayer to free them from this yoke,
May a path be found for all to live,
To make a life that’s more than hope.
Heaven leans earthward
to heart's open doorway
yin and yang entwine
from one, two were born—
in love's clasp they merge again
Breath builds the arch bridge
spirit rises, grace descends
phases kept waiting—
each breath in opens the mind
for the spirit to enter
Rain falls unbidden
as grace drops upon tilled soil
in homecoming joy
with the bliss of two, now one
rejoining with grace a pace!
Please walk me into your City
Rain down on me with your love
As I walk down in your city with your liquid flesh touching my feet
Light up my heart like fire flies with yellow flowers above my feet
My hat is tilled, acknowledge me
As my white dress adores you to speak
The sky is lit by the moon while the lamps smiles brightly when you walk past, walk me to my destiny. Welcome me to
your city
Forgiveness is also dawn light on those water-worn stones
Forgiveness is a midnight river, sluggish and cold,
It shatters ice in the heart, thawing frozen bars of pride.
It flows through driftwood memories—gnarled, half-submerged bones,
Each knot a scar where grief and betrayal once were bold.
Forgiveness is also dawn light on those water-worn stones.
The current heavy with lodged pain, with roots ungroned,
Yet soft fingers of gold coax shadows into gold.
It shatters ice in the heart, thawing frozen bars of pride.
It is gardener’s gentle hands, though bleeding, when love owns
Its weeds of rancor, tilled soil where new rosebuds unfold.
Forgiveness is also dawn light on those water-worn stones.
I remember every ripple, every edge of what’s gone,
Yet in that remembering learn each wave must be controlled.
It shatters ice in the heart, thawing frozen bars of pride.
May this tender light linger, a balm after long nights, known
As hope beneath our feet, mercy quietly extolled.
Forgiveness is also dawn light on those water-worn stones,
It shatters ice in the heart, thawing frozen bars of pride.
It was the rat and the snake that ate each other.
It was the love in them.
It was the buttercup and the lupine that devoured the bees.
It was the insectivore legs that tilled the crumbling fields.
It was the crumbling fields that carried the legless off.
It was the fox that shook its head that sprayed red.
It was the upright shadow that wrote a crooked bible.
It was the moth that ate the angel – the angel with no mouth.
It was the angel with no mouth that spoke the loudest,
It was the love in him.
Often I gaze
In shadows I sought refuge
Healing waters from the valley of visions
Measured my portion
In weaves I sowed my seed
Through many days of distortion
We Tilled the sky
It bore us life
In his ways I hope to walk
The King of Kings is Yeshua
He rose again from the grave
Often I gaze
In gardens of plenty
Toward the east
Toward the Valley of Visions
I set my heart
On the mount of olives
Where he will come again to this world
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