Sweet Sunday

Sweet Sunday’s

Holding on

To the love

Of the ground

And the sky above

Sweet Sunday

Before Monday

Let’s hold a new light

Into the week


The Slurry

The rush

The slurry


Of moving pieces

Roaring engines

As one takes




Into the ground

As we all fall

A Tiny Heart

The size of an almond

With a personality the size

Of the room

Our small dog

Named Wilco

May have a small heart

But fills the room with love

When anyone walks in

Sweet little Wilco


Trolls have nowhere else to go

Lurking for flat moments

Growing thick like mold

Trolls roll up their sleeves

To sow discord

In a world that needs to be healed

Refilled with love

So the trolls can roll away


Trees told stories

Well past the boundaries

Of you and me

The simple tree

That we cut down

Can teach us about


And each other

Trees go on

Well past us

And continue to grow

Even when we are growing old

March 24th

A great day to get out

My birthday is a day

To celebrate a new schools

Of voices rising up

In a dark time

So that in due time

We will have hope again

Such a coincidence

But on March 24th people rise


To believe again

That we can all accomplish something

With the help is our fellow


A Hope for Past Future

Can the future be brighter

If the past is not reckoned

How to know where to go

If we do not understand

What we have done

My role in this nowness

Is key to the future

I have played my own role


But with more passion we approach

The future