A Quiet Man

If you noticed him on streets wearing opaque

we would be hard pressed to clear a new path

for man carries the weaponry of wrath

when suggestive measures his outlook take.

 

Standing on the street corner fare in hand

waits inside crowds of unknown ambition

Childhood agony (a) primary mission

He would wish happiness in a soft land.

 

The train will convey a sea of ideals

all begun with ambition spent by day

his a persona, quiet man per se

yet still his life will be amongst the reels

 

My eyes search swift similar to your own

Whence is this such peace serenity grown

 

 

When We Think About Time

A certain reminder brings us home
To a sweet recall,
An autumn settling of the final descent
A cool chill suggests warmth
Is now a commodity in evening silence

Do we always imagine what comes next
In order to find our way,
To see there is a reason to hope
An understanding of just why
When will we ever become who we might

In the quiet of sun spilled mornings we
Ask for guidance from an internal soul
Perhaps today is longing
Tomorrow might suggest we belong
Much like we do whenever eyes close

If while the hours become a yearn
We look to the horizon
For inside the beauty of our lives
Is such the landscape of anyone wise
Who know, who believe, we allow time

To be our sacrifice when finding our peace
Is the constant in hope that love will speak.

 

~ finding my way, a personal journey  ~

He Imagined Her

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It was on a Friday night,

she spoke to him

wondering

she said she waited there

just to know

to wonder

if maybe he ever,

or if he might now.

 

He wondered then,

in the quiet of a winter eve

could she hear him

feel him,

might she know

if in a silent beat

of some nostalgic moment,

would he

wait.

 

He chose to listen

to a song would bring him a tear

always a joyful cry,

he wanted her to know

the celebration of love

could only contain

the tenets of a cherished

mystique


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

Having Felt The Fade

In that moment,

when alone a decision

becomes only the owner

of a certain speculation,

he might respond,

she may simply sing a song.

 

For there is a melody in love

filled with passionate embrace,

the notion of knowing this

is truly a feeling undeniable

therefore less attainable

when acknowledging the fade.

 

Walk with me, listen to a story

two people wrote, together

one autumn day,

where when afterward as memory

might allow,

they later stood inside a moon.

 

Inside this our quiet response to love

A full moon speaks silent just beyond …


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

 

Wherever You Go

coffee

‘the universal coffee shop’


I will wonder with my every day

thinking about places, times, memory

wandering through my mind

is the what ifs,

the wise

that turn into all of the why.

 

I look around the room,

people in their lives

she’s holding a cup of coffee

embracing her own

world,

I am curious

knowing nothing about

what might be on her mind,

caught in the crossfire

never knowing why.

 

If I could step away,

would it get any easier,

or would the constant reminder

be the final days

rather than the beauty of when,

while the world existed around us,

there was that moment

lasted forever,

way back then we too,

were always asking, why.

 

Long narrow hallways,

sun-streaked table tops,

not where anyone might imagine,

just my own quiet refuge

where I might look at the faces around me,

knowing little conclusion

beyond our own private

human condition,

with the internal why

 

seldom revealed.

 

~ just finding my way, a personal journey ~