Continuous Return

Continuous Return

The years overlap
as they remind us
that all of this
is only a moment,
our perspective changing

with each sunset
/sunrise, each leaf opening
/falling, each point of light
in the infinite star-filled sky
reminding us of the possibilities

behind and before us,
yet contained in the moment,
as one year passes
and another begins.


Kerfe Roig often has a way of sending my mind in unexpected directions,
as she has done with her pantoum, January 2022: into the darkness.

What Is Before Us ~ with audio


What Is Before Us
                for Stephen

Plain sight cannot deny
a truth without camouflage,
your subtle brushstrokes
never relying on memory hidden
within the ebb and flow of life,
always open to the new
as it unfolds, willing
an insight of what may be
repeated, though never taken
for granted. In chords
that stroke the soul,
I have seen your true self.

This poem is inspired by The Quiet Places, by Stephen Tanham.
Please read the original. It’s a short read, and the source of the photo.

one perpetual flow

one perpetual flow

contemplate a river
reflect on all, above
and below the surface
know the truth
of life flowing past

always flowing, depth
a matter of perception,
perspective found
in the waves that wash
over you in that moment

This poem is inspired by Autumn Astound, by SJaeschke (Jazz),
at Steps and Pauses/Mostly Mindful.
Please read her poem here.

Photo: The Niagara River gorge, seen from the Canadian side
(click image for a larger view of my photo in a new tab)



one room
three poets
a matter of perspective
all compass points relative to center
that sweet rose


three poets in one room
a matter of perspective
all compass points relative to center
sweet rose of friendship


three poets
compass points gathered
all relative to center
sweet rose of friendship


three poets

a matter of perspective

compass points
relative to center
sweet rose, friendship


three poets
that sweet rose, friendship

Our trip to Cleveland/Buffalo took us through Indianapolis, where we spent a pleasant evening with Stephanie L. Harper and Robert Okaji.

Yeah, short-form poetry is my thing.  I decided to try writing the first free-verse poem in other forms.  The definitions of these forms can be found on my Poetic Forms page.

Image source:

Sevenling (the journey)

Sevenling (the journey)

The journey is never over.
Never complete.
Always open to interpretation.

Destination, always changing,
a matter of conjecture.
Beginning and end have no significance.

The return is just a stop along the way.

I have been inspired by Ron. Lavalette, the master of the sevenling, to write my first.

Sevenling ~ created by Roddy Lumsden, a Scottish poet
~ a seven-line poem composed of three stanzas
~ first stanza ~ three connected or contrasting statements, or a list of three details, names or possibilities. (all of the three lines ~ or ~ contained anywhere within them)
~ second stanza ~ similarly contains an element of three, connected directly or indirectly or not at all to the preceding stanza (again, anywhere within the three lines)
~third stanza ~ a single line that should should act as a narrative summary or punchline or as an unusual juxtaposition
~ the tone should be mysterious, offbeat or disturbing, as if only a fragment of the story has been told
~ title is optional ~ if used, then “Sevenling (first few words)”

Image source:

In the Moment

In the Moment

inner Self
          in balance

          with calm
inner vision
          directed outward

In the Momentconsider a sphere
watch it fade

accept the warmth
draw it inward
          with calm

close your eyes
          feel the warmth
always home

compass needle
          to the real Self
core empowered

central to experience
          full with oneness
gift of the now
          in the moment


This poem is inspired by Steve Tanham’s Radiance of the Invisible Pearl.

Image pearl – 95C at pixabay
needle – Open Clipart-Vectors at pixabay



Thoughts like this call to me
Now and then
And then
I realize they’re always there

My lips may not move
Yet I wonder
Do you hear me
And miss me in the same way?

The time since may grow longer
But the time to come
When I may once more
Hold your hand is far shorter

This poem was inspired by Memorial, by Ron. Lavalette.