HEREI wake up here, to the sweet sound of nothing To the peace and the quiet inside my head To a hush, hiding in the dark In the drowsy tranquility of your bed I get lost in the deep lull of my thoughts In the dulcet tones of my repose I hear the faintest echo of your breathing as it comes, and ever so gradually goes

I hear your body move across the sheetsYou graze my ear, as you touch my hair My arm brushes slightly against the duvet as I reach to find you there I feel the weight of your head upon my chest I feel the warmth of your hand on my thigh The silence is broken, for the briefest moment by the contented exhale of my sigh

Here, in the calm of your presenceHere, with the ease of your touch There is a peace, here in this quietAnd it’s telling me so much In the comfort of our silence Here, within this soothing serenity I close my eyes, and I listen, and Sunday morning whispers to me

If there were just a few more hoursto this perfect time of day If only, the din of our realities would kindly stay away If we could just keep the afternoon on the other side of the door We could stay here, in the stillness and I could hold you, a little more

No words that I need to say hereIn the peace of this quiet, I knowI want to hold on to this feeling, and to never let it go Here, in the comfort of our silence There is no place I’d rather be I close my eyes, and I listen,as Sunday morning whispers to me

I open my window, a crack, just to hear you You have this way, a knack, when I’m near you I close my eyes and listen Imagine the leaves, their glisten You relax and you sooth me You inspire and you move me You put my mind at ease As you breeze through the trees The rhythmof your tears It’s music to my ears The breath of a sigh As the clouds gently cry

I open the curtain, the blind Open my heart, my mind I see your scattered flight Framed in morning light
You relax
and you sooth me
You inspire
and you move me
You change
my mood
in an instance
You wash
my worries
to the distance
The tranquility
of the scene
Sprinkles
on my screen
The essence
The refrain
My affinity
for the rain

Silence I hear the furnace kick in, on this cool morning.An awakening nudge, from within the silence…my creative silence.

It is then that I notice,gradually notice moreThe nuances of early morningJust outside my doorThe stillness of the lakeThe shadows near the shoreA family of four ducksAnd behind them two moreA peaceful place to begin my dayAlone, with some time to explore

A window to an opened mind.A unique view, from within the silence…my creative silence.

The façade of my introspectionProtective, but paper thinAccessible, in the early morningWithout the voices or the dinAn undisturbed opportunityTo summon, from withinThe chance to visit placesWhere I have seldom beenInsights, subtly perceptibleLike the drop of a pin

The sound of my ideas resonates,clearly audible to me, from within the silence…my creative silence.

Discernable refrains of thoughtEchoing inside my peaceful shellThe intricacies of perceptionFrom the depths of my wellThe complexities of emotionThe conflicts that I must quellLost, and found, in the early morningImmersed in what to tellA place to elevate my opinionsUp from where they fell

I find my positive inspiration,emerging, from within the silence…my creative silence.

The early morning moves meAs the words start to flowDrifting through the shadowsLike the ducks, in a rowLines of innate substanceGaining momentum as they goBuoyant, lucid, more certainShedding inhibitions as they growBrought into the morning lightFrom this tranquil place I know

The quiet of the morning finds me here.Where I can hear myself think…within my creative silence.

The morning starts out the same…With smiles and good intentions With energy and lofty goals But, the minutes are tickingToward the end of both Toward the mid-day lull Imagination grinding to a halt Hitting the proverbial wall.

Wheels locked in place,gears wanting in power. I am time standing still,hand stuck on the hour.

The reluctant optimist,hopeful that there is more. I am a tree lined road,winding to the shore.

There is a fine line in place…That separates good from greatThat distinguishes less from more Potential, on the threshold of changeSometimes it meets a pathSometimes it’s on a ledgeThe brink of a breakthrough Precariously near the edge.

An expanse from a destination, a misstep from being lost. I am a suspension bridge,longing to be crossed.

The battered pitcher, that’s been to the well. I am the grizzled veteran, with stories left to tell.

Personal insights ready to be shared…
Seeing the importance of each day
Seeing the enormity of the little things
So much potential, yet to be met
Bringing along a passion for life
Bringing an open book to the table The mind is more than willing The body, fighting to be able.

A semi-automatic rifle, unsure of where it’s aimed. I am the winning lottery ticket, waiting to be claimed.

“People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it.”
– Jim Morrison

Confined

He goes to bed each night alone with the ache His internal conflict keeping them both awake Wakes up weary every morning lying beside his vanity With a smile for his children and a check mark for his sanity

Physical versus mentalin a battle of his pain Sensory and substantialis thesignal from his brain From necessity and habit you conceal what you feel It’s mind against matter with wounds that won’t heal

Scar tissue and time The confines of the mind Self-motivation Self-preservation Selfishly suppressing the pain Scar tissue and time A safe place to hide
He fights the painHis wounds remainSustaining himself from inside

An actor playing himselfin the true story of he
Absorbed in the role of everyman
and that’s who he has to beScripted by circumstancehe has lines on every page
Penned for his own purposes
he is resplendent on his stageA song written in his head
but needed by his heart Lyrics intended for healing they’re upbeat from the start Motivation for mind and body Affected, but indeed sincereHe givesa selfless performance for everyone to hear

Scar tissue and time The complexities of the mind Self-medication Self-preservation Selfishly deflecting the pain Scar tissue and time Enduring another dayDifferent roots of painNo Ledger or CobainDetermined to go another way

Scar tissue and time You conceal what you feel It’s mind against matter When wounds never heal

Scar tissue and timeIn theconfines of your mind You ascend another day Starting from behind

OursI sit at the end of the dock Alone, on the edge of a new dayI scan our horizon, and smile
Content, about thinking this wayIt just feels like it belongs to us That it’s all ours, and therefor mine That we have our own entire lake And our own sprawling shore lineThere is a definite sense of self A fulfillment, based on our decision Circumstances, that brought us to now How I got to this positionAs I breathe in our fresh air and feel our cool morning breeze My heart embraces the moment My mind notes all that it sees

I see our fence and our fire wood I see the garden we need to weed I see our house that we are renovating into the home that we needI look up to see our deck I see just how it’s positioned I can picture our awesome view Even more than we envisionedI see our tall, imposing hemlock Our kayaks that lie in its shade See the route we’ve taken to our place I see all the choices we’ve made

I see the end result to our patience I see the fruits of this past yearI see the promise in our future I see exactly how we got hereI see all of our perseverance I see the challenges that we’ve met I see how we’ve faced them all together and I am as content as I can get

Content with this life for our family Content with how this all came to be Content with this time that is ours Content, and smiling, at all that I see

The morning has a way of seducing me with her obvious charm. Quiet and unassuming, but full of character and warmth. She knows precisely how to push my buttons or when to put me at ease with that subtle smile. The openness and availability of the morning often leaves me sitting and listening, and thinking about how to extend that moment and capture her essence. I try to absorb the feeling she creates and take it with me into my busy day. When I let the morning touch my mood, the rest of the day becomes our companion and we have the morning to thank for getting us together. Our ebb and flow are interconnected in a reciprocal relationship and the pace of the day is whatever we agree upon. More often than not she gives me the energy to propel myself headlong into all of the possibilities…the crispness of that first rush of air filling my senses…body and mind invigorated with the newness of the day.

Six a.m. came none too soonI was up to join the birds.The sun stood smiling downA brightness warmth beyond my words.As I packed my thoughts to goI could feel my heart pound.I crept down the creaky stairwayDoor closed with little sound.There was no early morning chillI was fervent with anticipation.Striding anxiously down the roadThrough the schoolyard, past the station.There would be all day to play…To ride my bike or toss the ballFor now my focus was very clear…And I could hear this other call.

At last the dirt trail, framed by dewMy pace grew more rapid still.Soon I would see the brookAnd beside it was my hill.Perched there on top of the worldI spent many a boyhood morn.While all around me life beganAs another new day was born.Sometimes I would just lie thereStudying each nuance of sky.Imagining some world beyondWhere clearest blue was not so high.Where every breath of air is fresh…Where peaceful thoughts reside.A place where discovery goes on…Where days like this have never died.