Hercules wouldn't dare climb it...
My great mountain of things unsaid
Mount Silence! It stands staunch and sturborn..
Looming over me, like a debt to be paid
"Don't look at me like that", I said...
As I reminded the Mountain of that vow we made.

I tip figurative hat to the late Cathy Robertson, longtime (lifetime) Thomas Paine Unitarian Church member, who unwittingly and quite casually made mention of contra dancing, which inopportunely, inextricably, and inaccurately linkedin to The Contras who were various United States backed and funded right-wing rebel groups that were active from 1979 to 1990 in opposition to the Marxist Sandinista Junta of National Reconstruction Government in Nicaragua, which had come to power in 1979 following the Nicaraguan Revolution.

Early spring, is there a better time?
For me the answer must be "no".
Birds arrive with songs anew,
The flora starts to slowly grow.

If I had to pick my favorite sight
To mark spring's early gift,
It would be the tulips peeking out
Through snow's waning final drift.

They grow on every continent
With beauty they cannot hide,
From bulbs of Turkish origins
Standing tall with floral pride.

She couldn't have been farther away.
Even though we were sleeping
here, next to each other.

Slow on the draw, to be sure,
it just took me some time
to get better at recognizing
what empty looked like.

And I understand now
just how far away far away can be
when it’s there in front of you.

I didn’t know you,
I wondered,
Of your thoughts
Behind your wavy red hair,
The way your emerald eyes,
Saw the world,
The joy in your smile.

I didn’t know you,
I saw you dance in the rain,
the autumn leaves in your hair,
You caught a snowflake.
With your tongue.

I didn’t know you,
I asked for a hug,
You embraced me,
Rubbed my face with the snow,
I was excited,
You were inspired,
I knew you.

Saint Patrick's Day, or
Feast of Saint Patrick
Lá Fhéile Pádraig
invoke even non Irish to proclaim
Éirinn go Brách
translated as "Ireland Forever."

Though semitic thru and thru
yours truly (me) dons guise of being Irish
trumpeting hoople linked with
the folklore and culture of Emerald Isle
juiced tin he nuff tame afore
thee 2024 Saint Patrick's Day,
(hens this faux written accent
donned to sail hub berate won big todo
fur those peep pull
o' Eire rush deuce cent)

I remember when the moon was small;
no larger than your soccer ball.
That's how old I am.

That jumping cows could clear its height
and puppies laughed to see that sight.
That's how old I am.

There were no birds, just nests of eggs.
T'was long before snakes lost their legs.
That's how old I am.

I watched the rocks each climbing high,
becoming mountains in the sky.
That's how old I am.

I felt a goodness grow in me
that promised life eternity.
That's how old I am.

There is no spring without a winter,
You can never appreciate sunshine without the rains.
You can never climb mountains without a fear inside you,
Of what you will lose or could possibly gain.

To become a man takes virtue. Not just rules or that gentleman's touch.
Descent into danger, just choices by far too many or maybe one to much.
The wisdom of my success was always around me. I'm my mind, spirit, heart and soul.
But failing life, it's beauty and my expectation. that's my sin and that I should of controlled

I was no different than anyone else. Not really unique;
in that I was made, in part, from pieces of others I’ve known,

friends and family mostly. Those still here,
and welcome spirits who seem content to stay.

Also, there were a few women I loved at one time or another.
Although, some of them took a few pieces with them.

Vision of Blue Elk

You see it with your eyes closed,
After meeting the woman who
Feeds the
Deer,
Adam’s
Mother.

It is electric, a buck.

You chat with her first, she tells you
Her worries and you listen.

One Winter, by then, stressed,
Much later, the blue elk appears,

You have lost him already.
The elk fades, you made a
Wrong turn,
In the woods.