Shadows of Light

In the light of longest shadows, 

The darkness gives victory to the light, 

The faithful return to the streets of work, 

Where the colors of light are intense, 

And the birds sing their loudest praises, 

Thankful for yet another day, 

As the path of the sun does not measure time, 

It is the heartbeats of those who are close, 

An enfolding rhythm without compare, 

A persistent praise of percussion, 

Celebrating the giver of life, 

Until all hearts beat without interval, 

In the day love's song never ends.

Books Upon The Shelf

I wrote this yesterday at 3PM and did not know why.  Yesterday at 6PM I read a news report about the passing of Glen Frey that was exactly 3 hours hold.  This is for him, David, Alan, Natalie, Celine Dion's husband, and many that have passed recently.  Lives are like stories.  When the book is finished and placed upon the shelf, the story does not disappear.  Every moment is eternal and can be seen through our hearts again and again.  Life is real.  Death is an illusion.

The eyes distort the image,

Seen through open windows,

Of pathways souls would tread,

Upon the dusty Earth,

With action spoken words,

Words setting power in motion,

With the energy of lives,

Uniting every page,

Turning through the ages,

As chapters form the whole,

An ageless face of beauty,

With a smile to capture hearts,

Now weathered from the start,

But the smile still shines through,

For some things never change,

Through every turning page,

Till the story reaches end,

And the book is on the shelf.

Some stories outlast others,

Yet the quality is not in length,

For time is but an illusion,

As there is no such thing as size,

Meaning distance is perception,

Separating goals from wills,

Until passion sparks inception,

Loosing powers of the heart,

As some lives taste in days,

What others require in years,

Yet we all are meted power,

To narrate our own tales,

Writing pages in our hand,

Though a story may close early,

And the book goes on the shelf.

The shelves go on forever,

Extending in all directions,

For there is no top or bottom,

With endless lives and names,

For each life that breathes in time,

Exhales eternal vapors,

And the truth upon the shelves,

Is the stories are still there,

Captured in every detail,

Inscribed on every heart,

For beyond limits of paper,

The heart holds all words made,

And every breath that’s said,

Is written in Love’s pen,

From beginning to the end,

For the illusion presents itself,

As since there really is no size,

Then there cannot be a distance,

Without distance there is no beginning,

And in love there is no end.

Through These Eyes - For David Bowie

The title was inspired by his unusual eyes.

The words are about how he painted the pictures he saw in music.

The legacy is painting the magic into life as he did for us.

Upon the darkened mist I stroll,

Along side this old river,

Passing through the city streets,

Where I saw him kiss her,

A living canvas etched in stone,

Only viewed when I’m alone,

On the endless song I ride,

Through these eyes.

Ancient land of dragons lifts my feet,

Amidst the song of Asian sounds,

With scents unknown both hard and sweet,

Flows through these foreign grounds,

In the sea of faces by an old street sign,

Black hair a swirl and then her eyes meet mine,

But a second’s sight imprints two souls,

Through these eyes.

The pictures painted through words in song,

The image blows on wind to many ears,

The canvas woven onto hearts,

Conveying joys and fighting fears,

And many souls a vision share,

So many hearts to passion dare,

Life’s breath eternally revives,

Through these eyes.

Your shadow whispers thoughts to me,

Underneath and over sunlit stars,

The Heart of Love we seek to see,

A moment’s journey takes us far,

Through this world that’s made of light,

Song is where our hearts do take flight,

May you see your seeds of fire have grown,

Through my eyes.

Tomorrow Unto Yesterday

This is about death which should not be feared, as it is a part of life.  With cancer a person loses the desire to eat or drink, can often clearly recall people from long ago, and can have sudden bursts of energy with the desire to take care of things.  This is tomorrow combining with yesterday.

Many people have commented on news reports of the passing of David Bowie with touching personal accounts as they find reasons to keep fighting for each day, and keep fighting for each other, in the name of love.  Many cite David's efforts to record his final album in spite of his condition to give a parting gift to his fans around the world, while he kept doing the thing that defined him.  All of this is about love which is also timeless.  If love is timeless, and the defining truth of life, then death is truly an illusion.

 Hunger is but a passing thought,
Thirst visits me no more,
I hear life's song from the street,
Through my open door.

Memories flood my living soul,
Of what people once did say,
From faces long before these thoughts,
Who were from another day.

So much to do was never done,
And yet there is so much more,
Yet all I can foresee to do,
Has all been done before.

Then strength does fill me fresh anew,
As strength did fill me when,
There was so much more of life to do,
That I may rise again.

Yet love's sunrise will never set,
As God's heart shines on to me,
For Life's love song does never rest,
It is sung eternally.