Obake whispers
childish dread that left deep grooves
behind frightful doors
Obake is a Japanese word loosely translated as a spirit or ghost.
This door was (and probably still is) the portal of an old plantation house in the middle of the town of Paia, Maui, Hawaii.
A continuum
Birth, passages, hope renews
Beginnings abound
Turmoil in our midst
Leaders scoff at patriots
Warriors wither in wastelands
Glaciers cry in despair
Creatures choke in human filth
I want to raise fists red with anger
scream curses and insults
avenge sins upon the weak
mutilate despots and cowards
But then out of nowhere
I thought of you miles away
your heart heavy and sad
your body consumed by sickness
your turmoil I can only imagine
And I realize that this world chaos
pales in the shadow of our friendship
Good morning, my friend
May I just sit with you a while?
Gaze into the rose
Layers of love, mercy, grace
Mirror of our soul
Deployment.
Weapons anchor her girth.
Camouflage fatigues belie
the softness she reserves for her infant son
entrusted to a friend a million miles away.
And as she hunkers down
beneath desert stars in makeshift barracks
she prays.
Let him be safe tonight.
Home.
Diapers, schoolbooks, chores.
Her daily domesticity camouflage
the fierce warrior alert and poised
to guard and protect.
And as she nestles in
beside her sleeping husband
she smiles.
My sons are safe tonight.
I posted this four years ago and am re-posting to honor Megan on this Veterans Day.
Elegant bonsai
Rooted in eternity
Sensei of patience
Indoor Fukien Tea bonsai – Note its tiny flowers
Let her rest a few more minutes
while the rest of us live our lives
and pause for an afternoon moment
to glance and smile her way.
For when she fully blossoms
she shall unwittingly discover
that her entire being has been cast
for the pleasure of others.
