Poet's Journal

Journal Entries

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Dark Strength

The trees are a problem, their roots lifting sidewalks to the autumn sky and my complaints bitter with the choices between hardness and life. I

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Poets of Grief

Poets of grief multiply in the killing fields, transcribing bitter fruit. Who am I to speak of ancient earth, life beyond the terrible sadness? Perhaps

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Winter Stew

Gathering slowly Earth welcomes the fallen leaves of autumn, golden brown in their descent. Summer’s harvest for winter stew, heated in the dark cauldron. I

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Choirs of Knowing

Rain clouds pass over and Orion appears in the eastern sky, the first signal cold is near. I walk out on the wind whipped point

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Soul Cavern

With gray skies and cold air the sun moves south on the horizon as autumn reaches into the islands. Settled into the stillness the lonely

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Safe Harbor

Waves tear south under high winds, white caps and rollers stretch across the channel as gusts envelop the cabin like a ship on the sea.

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Light in the East

In early morning I sit alone with the sea. Only stillness, dawn color and the wind’s whisper in the high trees. As the day rises

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Let the Wind Correct

The winds of autumn cause the seas to surge and strip the summer leaves. The prejudices I won’t release are torn by these winds, tearing

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Dear Companion

Autumn rains refresh the earth, restoring color, lifting worms. Along the northwest coast forests breathe more easily, the misted seas mysterious in their changing garments.

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All the Grace Needed

Low clouds bank the island though the rain has stopped and skies begin to clear. Summer dried the ground so the land drinks deep these

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Garden of Remembrance

Fog envelops the islands as the changing air of autumn blankets the sea with mystery. Quietly we sit within the shroud recalling the night sky

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Nurture the Garden

The clouded sun lights the sea, gulls cry out their morning welcome and the daily news arrives. The greater the disturbance the deeper I reach

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Today is the Day

Today is the day the Morning Star rises, today the day of the moon and sun; today the wind and ebbing tide, the color green

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In that Emptiness

What will I sketch upon sea and sky? How can I add to the living pallet? I wake with the sun, go down with the

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Poems