Enjoy the silence

whenever nature gives it:

cacophony soon returns.

~

Around here the time

nature allots to silence

occurs when I’m fast asleep.

When sun’s warm light fills

the sky does it bring hope on

these bone chilling days?

~

On bone chilling days

hope is all that can warm us,

with or without sallow sun.

Distant echoing

yips and howls and cackling:

coyotes in the distance.

~

Distant coyotes 

are not to be feared; those who

silently prowl close by are.

I hear in your voice

the poignant awareness that

your boy has become a man.

~

And is on the road,

again, in this winter chill,

answering the siren’s song.

A blast from the past,

blew into town this winter,

Arctic chill, nearly forgotten.

~

Cold-hearted Santas,

promising gifts, have always

been with us and are here now.

 What are some standards

for judging holiday time

with family a success?

~

Of many yardsticks,

the best holiday measures

are sweat, bloodshed, and tear fall.

A Joyous Yuletide

remains, still, within our grasp

if we keep our focus close.

~

May our focus be

gentle and our arms open

wide to embrace this Yuletide.

He’s checked his list once

or twice and he’s certain he

knows who’s been naughty or nice.

~

His list was outsourced

to Fox News and RT;

guess that means no gifts for me.

It’s hard to focus,

in this uncertain era,

on a joyous holiday.

~

Bubbles of ageless

truth still fill us with joy in

these uncertain times.

The winter solstice

is here. Does that mean Congress

will gradually see the light?

~

Who can see the light

on the darkest day this year

even in congress’s hall.

Why competition

for plentiful resources?

Life is no zero sum game.

~

Resources we have

in abundance, compassion

not so much. Some get zero.

Is there anything

more futile than arguing

with a teenager?

~

Building consensus

in the halls of government

leaps quickly to the forefront.

Seven dirty words:

once a comedy routine,

is anyone laughing now.

~

The laughter stopped when

words like “diversity’ and

“vulnerable” were banned.

Christmas is coming

 fast and some in Congress are 

rushing to give themselves gifts.

~

Unlike the Magi,

their gifts require little

self-sacrifice to bestow.

Offering comfort

across partisan divide,

his compassion flowed.

~

What manner of man

could ever do such a thing;

could it be, GASP, a statesman?

Why must some profit

from illness and misery

and the digital divide?

~

There’s no “must” about

it. Some choose to place profit

before fairness or caring.

An Alabama

testament – if Moore offends

thee, then cast him out.

~

Dixie firmly said

Old times are not forgotten

and neither are evil deeds.

Unexpected red

burning in this winterscape

fails to offer any warmth.

~

Seems like you may be

looking for warmth in all the

wrong places, my poet son.

If we’re unwilling

to ask open questions, won’t

we close lots of doors?

~ 

Some may slam the door

when confronted with the truth

and asked to look deep within.

Regard this orchard,

standing bare amid the snow,

mirroring frigid spirits.

~

In a frigid world

beauty still breaks through, bringing

comfort, delight, even warmth.

When we look outside

and see a blanket of white

have we just been snowed?

~

We have not been snowed

if we can stay inside, warm,

and enjoy if from afar.

Tangled in these webs

Evasion, misdirection

how can we perceive the truth?

~

First we determine

whose webs we are tangled in –

are they theirs or our?

Seventy five years

ago a magnificent

creature made her earthly debut.

~

Twenty five years more

basking in its radiance

and we may all get a tan.

When we see beauty,

is our first question, “Is that

Lotus or Waterlily?”

~

If questions are asked

at the sight of beauty, they

tend to be ones of how, not what.

Any thoughts on how

to keep your cool in heated

times such as these?

~

Heated spirits rise

in these uncertain times but

surely cooler heads prevail.

When illness rises

and spirits, likewise, descend,

how can we find time to write?

~

Sometimes writing can

soothe our sickness and distract

us from our lingering woes.

A truly sunny

Sunday lifts the mood, opens

hearts to gratitude.

~

Sunny warm Sundays

in this chill, frosty, season

must be counted as a gift.

How long will it be

before they begin to see

the cost of sycophancy?

~

When screwers become

screwed their learning curve improves..

Until then? Who knows, my friend.

Early December –

fifty-eight degrees outside.

Who turned up the heat?

~

Everybody has

there hands on the thermostat

but will we, yet, turn it down?

Looking for some lights

on this darkest evening:

found them in a traffic jam.

`

It’s funny isn’t

it, how light can be found if

we only slow down.