The late-summer track runs blue with deep shade,
While cicadas rasp in sun-whitened trees;
And ask what secret lives inside the breeze,
You clasp my hand where sandy gullies fade.
I show the compass, by the years decayed,
Whose faithful needle leans, and never flees;
We watch the foam that feathers on the seas,
While on the shore our wandering steps are made.
You ask where north goes, in your small voice calm,
As though the world was just this morning born;
You spy a blue-tounged skink beneath a thorn,
And hold a broken shell within your palm.
The compass points its north through dusk and foam;
Your wondering hand points farther still—to home.
Where art thou O Lord, My God
I cried in desolate prayer -
They say you're in the clouds and rains,
The mountains, plains and everywhere.
Where art thou O Divine One
I ask unto the skies,
Your creation and love is around and above
Yet you are hidden from my eyes.
A piercing wail broke into my thoughts
A cry of sheer pain -
I looked around for the source of sound
But I looked around in vain.
Then, I saw him.. the lost little one
Weeping under a tree -
I rushed to him in maternal love
And held him close to me.
The tear-stained face beamed a sunny smile
For all the world to see
And at that moment I heard a voice
Deep inside of me -
"I was there in the child's cry
And his joy on seeing you
I am forever in a mother's heart
Am in everything anew!"
Who and what.? Are words more relevant.?
Spirit in flesh..Fears foibles desires and
A realm of intentions.' Veering off occasionally, of the better path.' Could
Have been me.? I happened i saw it! The
Rain came twice against the forecasts ( in January ) in L A and in
Victoria..The fires died, I got up the next
Day and tripped over.' Banged my nose
Had to wipe my eyes.' Struggled through
The cold English rain, a car just missed
mine..Mundane stuff people.'One day my
Car will be part of a robot.? Could be.? Or
Just a rusted hulk.? Can you tell me exactly.? No you can't I can't, there are many things i cannot do.' What is valueble? Whar is the imperative.? A glass of clean water, or a vase of it, with fresh flowers.? Is that fullfilling.? Its not the whole, yet part of the sum.' Its in its place
The same as the river, the mountains the
Plains and the valleys, works of antiqity
Observed in museams, or looted.' And placed on a table somewhere.? I do not know, what the next hour will bring ' the
Unseen post service, that always delivers.'
Unpaid i'll grant you, but always aware, of
My existence, in the great somewhere.'
There’s a fire that needs no flame,
A silent spark that calls your name,
A glance that lingers, hearts that race,
Two souls drawn closer into space.
The world grows quiet, time stands still,
As anticipation bends the will.
A whispered word, a trembling sigh,
A thousand feelings passing by.
It’s in the warmth of being near,
The kind of closeness that makes everything disappear.
No words are needed, none are planned,
Just the electricity of a gentle hand.
Passion isn't merely heat or desire,
It’s two hearts feeding the same fire.
It’s trust, connection, and letting go,
A language only two can know.
And then the heart gives way completely—
No walls remain, no distance between me.
For one breathtaking moment, nothing matters
But knowing you are here, and I am seen.
The noise of the world falls far away,
And every guarded feeling finds its place.
What began as a spark becomes something true—
A profound, trembling certainty of you.
And when the moment fades away,
Its echo lingers into day—
Not merely as a memory of the night,
But as a feeling that still carries light.
By Shawn Muñoz
Bright, large clouds above mountains too
Brought comfort floating in the blue
Resting, shining, in the clear sky
I could see my dreams floating by
Above the green blanket below,
Miles of grass, a stage for a show
I looked across beautiful land,
not wanting to leave where I stand
Heidi Sands
9/11/26
(C)opyright
* 8 Syllables
Take a look around the world
people hurting everywhere you look
I ask you where is the love
Today stop think before you speak
Then love can really leak
out to the person hurting on the street
Friends no longer friends
Why is this , because loves gone away
Once walked hand n hand
Now can't look each other in the eye
Children treated cruelly too
Everyone is seeking to be loved
Will you make a difference my friend
And let your love send
Out to others who seek it so much
We can make a difference today
Stopping hurt, chasing blues away
Reach out and touch somebody's heart today
MIND WHERE YOU KNOCK
(A Tanka Trio)
A door opening,
Yet, it could be the wrong door;
It could be Satan's:-
He's fooled so many of us,
With his bastardize guidance:-
When a door opens,
Check out whose the opener;
God cannot be aped:
Satan washes guilty hands;
Jesus washes weary feet:-
A door opening,
Can be for good or for bad.
Be in awareness:
God's open door enlightens;
Satan's open door blindsides:-
If you love where you live
That’s a wonderful fact,
But you can’t expect others
To always react
To your choice of address
With a positive spin,
Especially if
It’s a city you’re in.
Oh, I’d never live there –
All the crowds and the noise!
The hustle and bustle
Which no one enjoys.
The subways and traffic,
The homeless, the rats;
The crime – have you noticed
The murder rate stats?
It’s useless explaining
Your opposite view –
The people to look at,
So much you can do.
The buildings, the plantings,
Museums and shows,
The shops and the restaurants
Everyone knows.
No matter how hard
You may try to convey
How you feel in the city,
There isn’t a way
To convince those who hate it
The reasons you’ve got.
It’s either inside you
Or else it is not.
High atop his branch he clings,
a fretful, fidgety fellow~
September’s here (allegedly),
but Texas still screams yellow.
He peers down at the dusty ground,
no pumpkins, no autumnal spice, nor chill;
no brisk breeze swirling through the oaks,
just heat that just sits still.
“Oh fall, wherefore art thou?” the acorn cries,
dramatic as can be~
“I’m meant to drop with dignity,
not roast upon this tree!”
He wiggles, scoots, and shimmies,
but the branch won’t let him go.
“I’m ready for my autumn arc~
this summer’s just for show.”
So there he waits, impatient,
a tiny acorn with dramatic flair,
dreaming of the day he falls
into cool, crisp autumn air.
in the darkened woods
behind iced capped mountain peaks
in the oceans depths
To all my friends and family,
The ones who search to find me.
They look in the beautiful trees.
They look in the rooms I call comfy.
But that's not where I am.
That's not who I am.
They look in the corners of a library.
They look in the crowds of parties.
They look in the mountain breeze.
They look in the waves of the seas.
I love all these things.
But they are not what make me.
Tell me, friend. Do you want to find me?
Look in the gangs where I bleed.
Where the homeless lack company.
Where the faithless are angry.
Where the children are lonely.
Where the violent reign free.
There is where I will be,
As long as my heart beats.
I stand where the earth is green and wide,
Under a clouded, dreaming sky.
The paddy whispers, row by row,
Of days that pass, and rivers that flow.
No buildings touch this quiet land,
Only wind and rain by nature's hand.
And in this green, so calm, so deep,
I sow the dreams I want to keep.
Days will pass, pages will fill,
Ten, twelve books, by sheer will.
If after all this suffering, I never gave up,
Why will you?
If I can, you can too.
In sleep..Deepest sleep, does the body not move.? For lying too long on just one
Side is bad? I believe that is true.? We turn right to left, all unaware, as ( the body )
Regulates by innate care.' So being on the
Left indefinatley will stress your skin crush blood in transit, cause pain within
The same for the right, do not stay forever
Maybe a while on the back, will suit you better.? A simple enough theisis, but practical truth..Could it be applied to politics.? Would it help somewhat.? In
Valuing balance.? Does it allow a plot.?
As in seamanship? A course to follow for
The body of a country, maybe we all
should on just not? swallow..That the right side or the left, are the only choice.'
Available is discernment, treat it not as naught.' Maybe better for the body of a country, to have chance to move? And
Before retiring to the bed,
in making; slip off real heavy shoes ?
one bad apple bruise
lies gently beneath the skin
sweetness masks the taint
soon the barrel takes the blame
for one bad fruit spoiled within
fingers find the bruise
then distrust the shining fruit
every skin looks stained
one dark blemish somehow grows
larger than the orchard knows
most are good to go
hanging blameless on the bough
the marked apples fall
and leave bruises where they land
the good fruit harvests the blame
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.
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