The Waiting Heart

The last golden light of the sun
sets through the western thicket.
The hallowed gloam of evening races
to meet the hidden horizon.

Since I was a boy lost in the pews –
a small town church, St. Joe’s –
I’ve been taught about faith, hope, and love.
Now these, as a man, seem to be falling
into an autumn of the fallow field
when the greater virtue, the needed one,
the long season of the waiting heart,
fades across sunset into night.

I wonder what the morning will bring
when the sun breaks its way
through the last shreds of night?


Portland, Oregon – April 29, 2020

Earth Day

It is time to know
our place in the world.
We can see it now as it is,
as it has always been.
We hid it from our eyes –
it’s wild and stormy reaches,
it’s  vast and empty spaces
the land, fertile and  deep
in eons of undisturbed soil.

We held up a mirror to our faces
and saw a world filled with us
and it seemed good.
Now it is the eighth day
and the world is calling
us back to what it was
and has never been other.
It is closing it’s green
enfolding arms around us
and we will empty ourselves
in the roots of the world
that is being born again.


Portland, Oregon – April 22, 2020.  Earth Day

Shifting World

When the world shifts
I must shift
or walk along the road
where time has gone.

My tasks and the world
shift under pressure –
when a small thing,
a stone in a shoe,
stops the big things.

Tasks remain to do
when the sun rises.
When night comes
I lay them down
to sleep and dream.


Portland, Oregon – April 8, 2020