Judging others leaves little time for loving them
We are often measured by the things
that we cannot control,
By the way our body curves,
or does not curve, by our intelligence,
our income,by our willingness to conform.
We are measured by inches, ages, numbers,
and by the judgements of others
By all the outside things
that never add up to who we are
on the inside.
So, if we are to be measured,
we should be measured by those things
we can control, by who we are,
and who we are trying to become;
because, as everyone knows,
measurements and numbers
are only statistics,
and statistics lie.
Copyright �2002
It has a special rhythm
A sound like nothing else
Pitter pattering droplettes
On the rooftop of the house
It makes a different sound
When it plays with the wind
And looks like gold and silver
When the sun lets a ray shine in
I like to feel it on my face
Streaming down my chin
To feel the coolness on my arms
The puddles splashing on my shins
Running through the raindrops
Searching for the rainbow's end
But, if I ever find it
What will I search for then?
Copyright �2002
when you're lonely
Where do you go
when you're blue
Where do you go
when you're lonely
I'll follow you
When you find home, a part of you never leaves
The waves roll in,
an endless rhythm.
Washing away footprints,
leaving their own mark.
Driftwood or a shell is left behind,
for me to find.
A reminder of its power,
a mass of might so bold.
Showing me I may look and feel,
but never truly hold.
The lapping waves relax my mind,
as the seagulls sing their song.
In my mind I see it all,
I can hear every sound.
My heart begs me to be strong,
until the next wave comes around.
There is a longing deep inside me,
it seems I am not whole.
As if when I depart from here,
I leave behind my soul.
Copyright �2002
A subtle glance
a gaze returned
eyes drop to the floor
then return
holding the gaze of a stranger
a second too long
a silent smile from moist lips
lips that speak in deaf sentences
eyes dance about the room
always returning again
to meet silently
longing for the courage
to do more
than just watch and
wonder what could be
then, in a glance
the moment is gone
Copyright �2002
The summer lasted forever
bronzed flesh
hot tennis courts
late night walks down dark roads
A detour through the park
we sit and swing
talking of everything significant
that seems inconsequential now
An encounter, perfect timing
eyes meet then shyly glance away
and return the gaze to see
fleshy lips moistened nervously
The slightest movement
a simple subtle lean
was all that was needed
but we were statues frozen by fate
Copyright �2002
Potted geraniums
sitting in the sun
the feel of the grass
underfoot when I run
The shadows of the cottonwoods
dance across the kitchen floor
as the sun glimmers through
the kitchen window and the door
Grandpa is making oatmeal
Grandma is burning toast
Watching their routine squabble
I'm not sure which one I love most
All the things I will remember
from a youth foolishly spent
wicker laundry baskets, a smiley swing
and the spring lilacs sweetest scent
Copyright �2002
