what if I listened
to my inner spirit more
what would Jesus say?

what if I learned
from Gods Holy Spirit more
what would Jesus teach?

what if I was lost
in crowds of hate and
would Jesus find me?

what if I became
a man worthy of His love
would I thank Jesus?

what if I healed
one weeping in lone disease
who would Jesus touch?

what if I could feed
children who hurt from neglect
what would Jesus give?

what if I could house
one refugee from despair
who would Jesus serve?

what if I looked beyond
this world of self-absorption
would Jesus see me?

what if my courage
became my faith and purpose
hope’s chain reaction

what if we cared more
for the poor than the wealthy
what would Jesus do?

what if I lived more
the simplest beatitudes
how would Jesus feel?

what if I spoke more
of those lost and forgotten
what would Jesus hear?

Seems like we’re living
in tall sandcastles we built
in sands of low tide

what if I became
a simpler—kinder soul
would I even know?

what if all time froze—
I could walk through every space
without permission

if I spent more time
on all the things that matter
I wouldn’t matter

my check engine light
warned me—I ignored it—now
my breaths grind on flint

I’m under her spell
nature slakes my wind-swept life
in springs of water

you know you are old—
when you know days of the week
by your pill boxes

if your held captive
by industries of profit
just drink tap water

it’s getting harder
to find real heroes—who care
for us more than them

in life’s deepest gorge
when you realize you’re lost
you discover you

canyon winds of night
hush grinding engines of days
dawn’s breath is stillness

my breath is fading
in dark caverns of thin air
anger is heavy

November’s fickle
nude branches in napping woods
sometimes wake early

silver aspen bones
withered skin in pimply cold
hopes of verdant spring

our family has grown
a loving home of rightness
from seeds of weirdness

I am forgetting—
what really is a hero?
where are they all now?

do you dare submerge
your soul in clear sun-drenched sprays
life’s river of faith

I’m hunger-deprived
of lights in darkened hollows
that absorb kindness

time erodes my bones
but hope carries my ruins
to soft gentle seas

true courage stands tall
painting lights of faith and hope
over waves of fear

when I was younger—
Mondays reigned with dark terror
now—I forget days

beneath leaves of shade
countless ancestors water
her blooming garden

drowning in darkness
your light rescues my lost breath
gilding me with hope

time fills blue balloons
memoirs float my cherished sky
old hands clench a pin

introvert’s flower
Bluebells bowing humble heads
drinking in Earth’s hope

introverts in bloom
Bluebells bowing hopeful heads
divining waters

rain draws night chasers
preaching to sell me more time
my resolve walks well

I learned from my years
those who truly need a friend
make the best of friends

what if all my years
infused courage to become
a faithful lighthouse

clouds cloak fervent suns
helping us grow and stand firm
in soft rains of hope

hiking dark jade woods
calm winds whisper healing words—
I remember you

green neighbors taunt me
river paths flooding with life
summon eager feet

rivers don’t flow straight
shaped by curls of daunting earth
challenges spread life

beyond all pressure
over metamorphic stone
my burden is hard

If I could unearth
lost paths in soft—forlorn hearts
I’d draw gracious maps

what if love could force
tyrants of time to stand still
while we steal their years

blue reflects our love
as our deep flame drifts threatened
by children of fire

life began in dreams
drawn with pens of loving light
we are God’s colors

in your darkest space
hope yearns to embrace your plight
touch my kiss of light

in your darkest room
my spirit embraces you
touch my kiss of light

warm fireside stories
rise in acrid smudge brushed tears
cries of mirth and fear

rusted rays of sun
dye weary leaves in glimmer
coloring my hope

we had everything…
then devoured like starving swine
—what if we were wrong

politics is loud
truth rests gladly in quiet
science is discreet

I’m way past my prime
my hood’s tarnished and empty
but my heart chugs on

I’m late September
pressing sun’s vibrant colors
in soft selfless leaves

they paid for a view
looking down—while we look up
—we were paid nothing

lies fume in chokes of
sycophants and supplicants
truth grows in forests

writer’s block happens
as my inspired pilot light
wanes in my self-doubt

when we were younger
No Trespassing signs welcomed
us—to unearth time

our young silliness
greeted us as explorers
we found our treasures

how can you doubt us
when we walk in innocence
bestowed by knowledge

My advice to men
avoid all women poets
breakups become tomes

If you’re labeled woke
it simply means you’re awake
now wake up our world!

Old age bares its shame
when past seconds escape you
and you need pill boxes

dawn’s silver dewdrops
soak into my tranquil green
cleansing dusts of sun

Eat, drink, and be merry
fears of hard times drive us to spend
for tomorrow we cry

I make things functional
but working together as one
she makes things beautiful

Poetries of love
are mainly sad, stuffed in regret
but she brings me gladness

Protect our dark sky
she is the last wilderness
resting over all

The next life will flood
of stuff effortlessly finished
then we will reach peace

My trails are covered
in swallowtail butterflies
sharing their painted paths

I have perfected
a brew of morning meadow walks
in chamomile tea

Rain carries my dark tears
to deep soils of sympathy
nourishing a rebirth

Beneath shady arms
of old woke cottonwood trees
dreams of futures escape

Diane’s green garden
brings gladness to weary mouths
with tastes of her love

Summer’s peak swelters
are cooled by monsoon showers
in still greyish moments

This life seems so loaded
of stuff we fail to accomplish
then depression unloads

How strange is our science
when we devise complex machines
instead of planting seeds

Trees storing carbon
outlast sequestering machines
science lies in forests

It’s easy to consume
freedom, truth, justice, and peace
much harder to create

Selfies filter us
in blurs of social media
building dysmorphia

A slab of smartphone
can never replace a kind friend
with heartfelt hands

If time can’t be trusted
how can we solve world ills
don’t mess with our clocks

Underestimating
the power of one dictator
just gives him more power

Peaceful sunflowers
drink the courage of the skies
blinding out evil

Sinking breathless grasps
feelings you misplaced your smartphone
while talking on your phone

Phantom phone vibrations
awaken your pants pocket
as you text on your phone

Our brain’s dependence
on intellects of our smartphone
dumb indifferent minds

The dim dimensions
in lonely palms of our hands
only suck darkness

Perhaps the point of life
is learning to love like breathing
pure muscle memory

Pumping lungs recycle
air words tears pain and water
into vibrant futures

When your faith is wrung
catch your breath at a waypoint
in God’s foyer of love

Rest heals our wings
layovers on long journeys
will lighten the mind

Our viral death rates
ranks highest on earth due to
political death rates

How can we ever be
vaccinated from our hubris
and our own blind madness

Wherever you move
will you stand up for something?
or become a NIMBY?

Will you be the light?
or will you absorb the night
forgotten in time