Pensées Comme Papillon

the mind perceives
what the hand cannot catch
beauty dances before the face
it lands in the open hand
clutch it; it's dashed to dust
watch too long, fade and  rust
blink and it flutters away
 the stream of time
is the invisible wind
made by the breath of God
we must breathe Him in
and live
with the spirit that flies
from the right hand above
Resurrections place
forever love

Chasing Butterflys

Endormi au Musée

Surrounded by salad eaters
in a rich mans dead legacy

the axe head fell into the water

Borrowed things will float
all things are borrowed
for the time of things are needed
then the time is over
and all things float away
and no hand of man can hold them
the power of that which is lifted up
is the gravity that pulls all
the center of time is a tree
it cannot be cut down
and the memory
scars that remain
 the outstretched hand

Be Desolate

elle est dans la saison sèche

Flat Lands

You were a painter, and a poet...

maintenant ta poésie sera écrite dans le sang

It burns warm alone

And the shadows cast
is a story of experience
a history that sings a song
from pastures of light
to endless night
a bowl of tobaccos smoke
it rises into the throng

Normal Heart at Fountain and Vermont

and I said to myself, "that's me...all of us"