With an iron clang,

for better or for worse, all

doorways to her past slam shut. 

~

The irony of

doorways that clang shut is they

can be portals to new life.

Who’s looking and who’s

seen when we pause and take time

to gaze into our own eyes?

~

With lengthy regard,

common meaning becomes lost;

inner mysteries revealed.

Today’s gloomy gray,

though seemingly unpleasant,

can be a welcome relief.

~

If it means increased

coolness, I’ll take gloomy gray

 any summer day.

” One of these things is

not like the others. One of

these… doesn’t belong.” Which one?

~

All of them belong

beneath a tent, big enough,

if our narrow minds allow.

Why manage crises?

Another just arises

like a phoenix from the ash.

~

Though we can manage

 crises as they arise, joy

may need some cultivation.

 Those wild golden

 blooms and the rising sun erased

morning blues today.

~

That same golden orb,

in its blazing mid-day glare,

bleached the blue from the sky too.

A quiet repast;

near perfect punctuation

for momentous decisions.

~

Having dashed around

filled with exclamation points,

quiet periods refresh.

Showing up matters.

Listening with open heart

and mind matters more.

~

If listening fails

and hearts remain frozen shut,

it’s probably born of fear.

As we wait upon

the slow turn of progress’ wheels,

how can we best spend our time?

~

Corny as it may

sound, we can learn to embrace

each fleeting moment.

Has last night’s success

with blank verse gone to your head

and left you wordless?

~

On the contrary.

Collapsing closet ceilings

have left me breathless.