Category Archives: Poetry

Chasing The Sun 12-10-14

Chasing The Sun

The faster we do things
The more things we have to do
The more time we have
The more bored we are

We are always
Looking to tomorrow
And forgetting the past
Or stuck in the past
Not seeing the future

We see what is wrong
Without seeing what is right
Or we see what is right
Without seeing what is wrong

The more we have
The more we take
The less we have
The more we give

It’s either one hand
Or the other
Never both
Never neither

We are forever chasing the sun
Or we are always
chasing the moon.

If we chase the moon
We will never see the sun
And if we chase the sun
We will never see our shadow.

Tomorrow will never come
If we are stuck in yesterday
But if we do not see the past
Tomorrow will not be
What tomorrow was.

The sun brings light
So do the moon
And the stars
And so do we.

Darkness brings the moon
And dawn brings the sun.
But sun brings the dark
And the moon brings the dawn

The world is full of opposites
The world is full of contradictions
Yet they often go unnoticed

When chasing the sun
We make one day last forever
But what do we lose
By chasing the sun

We will never see the moon
We will never see the stars
We will never see shadow
And we will never see night

Tomorrow will never come
If we are forever
Chasing the sun.

A Spiritual Skeleton 5-24-14

The things that keep the spirit going
Don’t involve prayer or worship
You don’t have to beg and plead

What keeps the spirit going
Is living
It’s the simple things
In day to day life
That keeps evil at bay
At least that’s what Gandalf would say.

A hobbit smoking his pipe
An elf playing her harp
Or a child climbing a tree

What keeps the spirit going
Is happiness
Hanging out with friends
And doing the things
You look forward to every year.

This is the spiritual skeleton
That keeps a place of spirit going
The way the world is today
These places need money to survive.

But what is the point
When the spirit is dying
As a consequence?

We need happy children
Just as we need music
We need lively animals
Just as we need
A tree to lean on.

It is the simple things
We take for granted
That make up the skeleton.

But what happens
When a bone is knocked out of place?
When the children leave?
When the animals and trees die?

What happens when
A person who loves nature
Loves people
And loves a place of spirit
Can no longer afford to be there?
And doesn’t even want to be there?

It is true that without a body
We have no life for survival
But when the spiritual skeleton is lost
There is no foundation for the body.

A spiritual skeleton
Is made up of what we love
Not necessarily what the world
Wants us to need.

So by all means
Work to survive
Ask for money
To keep a place of spirit going.
But don’t ever forget
What it’s all for.
Without a skeleton
There is no life
If a place has no life
It has no spirit.

The Spirits Trilogy

I’m starting to post poetry now and since I have over 100 of them I’m going to post some together. This is The Spirits Trilogy

The Trees of the Spirits 7-23-09

There is a magic tree.
It’s branches formed a throne,
A perfect fit for a fairy queen
Adapted to this human world.
This tree held the children
That climbed it with pride,
Love, care and devotion.
It grew on sacred land.
This land was home to many spirits,
Dead and alive,
Young and old.
These spirits have flourished
With the love of the people who,
Knowingly and unknowingly,
Protected and held the magic of this land.
All was well.

Until one man
Who had helped this land to flourish
Passed into his next realm.
Then everything started changing.
The magic energy was corrupted
Bit by bit.
The spirits started calling out in pain.
The tree called to the children
To put things back the way they were.
But it was just too late.
Out of sadness and anger,
Lack of peace and balance.
The tree could survive no longer.
And so it split
And was cut down.
The third magic tree gone.
The third chance
For things to be put right gone.

There are five more chances
For the beacon to be relit,
Remembered and loved.
Three more trees
Still standing
That hold the magic energy of the land.

They call to the children.
They call to everyone
To relight the beacon,
To change things back
To the way they should be.
Heed the call
And things will flourish again.

 

The Magic of the Spirits Returning

The magic was changing,
Being corrupted.
The spirits of the land
Were calling for help.
They gave us a warning
With a tree
Split and untwisted.
The first to receive it
Wrote a message
With a call for help
From the Trees of the Spirits.

The message was left
Ignored and unseen,
Relying purely
On the voice
Of the magical writer.
She left it to be read
By those who would read it,
And when she could
She read it to those around her,
Spreading the message
And spreading her magic,
Until finally
The message was answered,
And a change of the guard
Set in place,
No longer guarding against the spirits
But instead welcoming them
And protecting their magic.

The fairy queen,
Adapted to this human realm,
At home only
On this sacred land,
Who was the deliverer
Of this message—
Finally the fairy queen smiled,
Feeling a new door opening,
Seeing the light
Flooding into the darkness.
She knew the cycle
Of the magic energy
Was turning back:
Coming back
To it’s destined course.

The Ways of the Spirits

So many spirits
From many paths
From many times
With great power

They guard the land
And the creatures
Who inhabit it

We do our best
In many ways
To protect the spirits
As is our duty

As they guard the land
And the animals
So do they guard us

Always they do what they can
To protect us
From the corruption
Of the outer world

Some say
The world is dying
And so it may be
But always the spirits
Are trying to tell us
We have a choice

We have a choice
Whether to let our world die
Or to follow the ways of the spirits
And help the world
Towards its rebirth

Always the spirits
Guard the land
The plants
The animals
Us

As they guard these
So do we
As best we can
Always following
The ways of the spirits.