Same sky

February has proved

that peace will elude me

as long as I exalt the snow

for its gentle lightness

while reviling the rain

for its harsh dreariness

serenity is understanding

they are two sides of one drop

falling from the same sky

Breakthrough

Maybe it doesn't always happen

like a dam giving way

water crashing through the cracks

with irrevocable certainty

Maybe it is more like the carving

of a great canyon over time

atom by atom the winding river

erodes the stubborn rock

revealing a path of patience

Maybe awakening isn't

the scream of a bedside alarm

and we are meant to linger

in the in-between a little longer

so that we can remember our dreams

Adaptability

Amazing how quickly

a cut rose can be revived

just a few fingers of water

in a mug I forgot to rinse

and already the petals

are fluffed like feathers

on a cardinal in the snow

soft and red and round

wrapped in the parenthesis

of old lipstick stains

and a ring of tea remnant

the grandiflora blooms

just as beautifully

as if it were lounging

in a priceless crystal vase

pronounced with an ah

Compline

Tolling bells give voice

to dozens of flames

beating an ancient rhythm

like wings of the seraphim

lining the centuries old church

candles in hurricane lamps burn

reflections in glass chimneys

dance around their source

cleaving and bending away

before melting into

a single brightness

while upon the alter votives

hold a range of luminosities

wild flares leaping high

reaching for the heavens

or maybe just hungering for a taste

of the wooden cross suspended overhead

as nearby tapers burn steadily

efficiently fulfilling their purpose

no more light than expected, no less

and a few faint flames flicker

exhausted and barely breathing

glowing dimly but still alive

effecting a mesmerizing grace

proving that it takes

a variation of brilliances

to illuminate the night

Frozen ocean

Quicksilver winter sky

muted sunlight gleaming off

clouds like schools of fish

changing direction fast as a thought

platinum becomes white gold

snow dizzy from the rapid descent

its lack of direction

creating a visual cacophony

flakes blown like spiral shells

wind ripping righteous waves

across the drifts of a backyard beach

that has become of the barren forest

there is a new name for magic

written in the sea foam snow

frozen ocean, above and below

Strange grace

See the strange grace

of a soaring vulture

to whom death is life

and carnage, beauty

it is noble, majestic even

with wings stretched wide

in its cylindrical search

hoping for the hopeless

taking joy in the descent

Beneath the rubble

As you sift through the charred remains

of the room that was your heart

you catch the glimpse of something

shining beneath the rubble

Reaching for it with hopeful hands

you discover a polished silver frame

cradling an unblemished picture

of yourself at a much younger age

Red circle sled under one arm

trudging up a snowy hill

delight in your eyes

the curl of bliss upon your lips

And holding that perfect moment

between your blackened fingers

you realize -- it is enough

to rebuild this ravaged ruin