Words of the Moment

Words of the Moment 4-4-96 12:18am


All these things unwritten, passing
these moments I sit and ponder tranquility.
What is it that catches the eye
of Raphael’s little angels?
These quiet times before bedtime,
they hold the leisure
of the child angels.
Not that of great importance
but, that in part,
the necessity of sanity.
With a sip of tea and an ill idle pen
words of the moment pass.
Goodnight.

Author's Note:
Same today as it was back then. To sit in leisure with the intention to write and then to not write. The house is sleeping. For the most part the ticking clock reminds me that nothing has been written, regardless of the temperature of my tea. When tea is at the right temperature you want to sip it all. Why waste the best sipping time? I should sip it all. But I should not gulp tea. Why would I gulp Golden Monkey? It is a fine tea with complex chocolate undertones. I brew it by the cup. I enjoy the aroma. Well, writing is like that. Now is not the time to purge. I must scribe a bit and savor. Even if I don't write anything on paper, I must enjoy the weight of the pen in my hand and the feel of the paper underneath. Goodnight again.

This Understanding About Death

This Understanding About Death 1-17-92

It's just a part of life
and for me to be afraid of death,
to ignore death or to hide death
would have that part of my life confined
unable to grow spiritually.
That would take away from me
the freedom to live life
to its full potential.
Writing about death
exposes my feelings,
my thoughts an my fears about death
of the people around me
and within myself.
In doing that I can find
an acceptance of death
and I am able to live with death freely
no matter how morbid it may seem.

Of Whispers and Tears

Of Whispers and Tears 1-16-92
Subdued.
This vast sea of silence
and the still moon rising
has me listening to the stars.
Of whispers and tears,
the prelude to sleep
for this day’s end.
The morrow skulks
and the yester lingers.
Crepid fingers
in the waking hours
and some feeble attempt
to write my first thoughts
or even
my last recollections
of the unconscious
before they dissipate
or make sense.