The Beauty of It All

Beauty - in all its forms -
is the rule.
It may be a passive rule -
meaning it does not impose,
but rather it invites -
and surrounds, and soothes - and refreshes.

Some say there are “rules”
for the design of beauty.
Maybe. But, maybe not.

Between the creation and observer
there is a resonance - of frequencies.
A sympathetic resonance, usually -
but sometimes, one of excitement,
creating an energized response.

It matters not how I try
to describe such a reaction
- because it is felt -
not reasoned.

And a response to beauty
requires awareness.
One could be in the presence
of beauty - even directly in front of it
(whatever or whomever it may be)
- but, if one’s awareness
is on other things,
an appreciative acknowledgement and response
- will likely not happen.

Yet, to have an awareness,
even for less than a minute -
is sufficient for an exchange
of energies/frequencies - and resonance.
And sufficient for the pleasurable effects.

THE SKIPPER'S VISION

What if we [ you/me/anyone ] are standing
on the bridge of a spaceship, surrounded
by great visibility - clear windows all around
and glass-covered openings
in the ceiling and the floor.

In effect, we have maximum visibility -
the most available within the confines of a vehicle.
Not total or complete visibility, as if
in some omniscient state - but
the most we could expect or ask for.

We [ each of us ] are the captain of this ship.
From this vantage point, we can make, hopefully -
the most-informed decisions - avoiding dangers and
choosing paths with the greatest safety and effectiveness.

What if this visibility were available
to each of us - at any time - in any place:
on the street, in the car, on the tram
at work, at home, the store, the gym
the forest, the beach - and morning, noon or night.

It can be - with practice.

Loren Wayne Wheeler

A handsome man
with clear eyes
and a pleasing voice.

Someone who knew
he was on a journey -
and maybe a final one
here on beloved Earth.

A teacher.
A counselor.
A listener.
A way-shower.
A friend from another time.

His spirit both
calmed and enlivened mine
- when in his presence.
And as I step forward,
I will carry his presence with me.

No Soundtracks, Please

Can busy get busier
and distractions increase?
Yes - to levels beyond
our control and release.

When I dial down
and then pull back
My sight and hearing
get more feedback

Was that the building
groaning and creaking?
A distant machine
or the wind speaking?

What did my body
just say to me now?
I will speak back
with my own know-how

On the noisy street
and broad avenue
Vehicles pass and
conversations, too

Are all of these
messages for me?
The birds and dogs
and even the breeze?

Who is to say
a fact - or a tease
Just remember, folks
No soundtracks, please

THE STREAM

I walk on my own
in a way I know best
Not caring to follow
footsteps of the rest

With head and heart
in some balanced way
I keep my eyes
on the goals for today

Oh, to save the world
is my battle cry
But, more often than not
I’m content with a sigh

So, on and on
through the days and nights
The cities and towns
and the cheers and the fights

I keep on moving
like a leaf in a stream
Off to new places
that could be in a dream

Off to the Islands

There once was a man
from the highlands
who wanted to live on the islands
To venture that far
he need not a car
just a skiff to get through the tidelands

So he sold his house
with nary a grouse
and set off with satchel and sack
After traveling quite far
as if following a star
he saw that he couldn't go back

On he trudged
till a skiff he found
and pushed off with great expectations
A new life he'd build
if Luck would align
with his dreams and manifestations

The water was shallow
but got deeper still
till he feared for his ultimate safety
But spying the shores
of the islands ahead
by magic, he became his own navy

Throwing baggage ashore
he then tied up the boat
overcome by a great sense of ease
With an axe and two hands
he fashioned a home
and said, "Now I'll do just as I please."

Drama No More

Pirates, Warriors
Merchants and Poets
deeds of derring-do - and romance
Drama and drama
and even more drama
has become the gist of Life's dance

Is that all we know
drama forever
never to step through this song
To a space unadorned
no schemes or intrigues
where thoughts can lead softly along

No spells or curses
or grand manipulations
perpetuating darkness of night
So that we all forget
the reason we came
to this planet filled with love and light

And perhaps even worse
are the skills deep within
so vast, they would give us a fright
That we honestly believe
we have lost all control
of powers in the human birthright

To heal - and create
and rejoice and be glad
for the chance to do meaningful work
To pay debts and move on
in a spirit of grace
is the joy of living, we assert

One by one
we can turn away
from the drama, the noise and the lies
And within our hearts
find peace again
in our own little smiles and sighs

Down the Road

Down the road
of Life we walk
too busy to see the signs
In trees and grass
and birds overhead
- other things fill up our minds

If we saw
and followed them
dear, what would become of us
No jobs, degrees
and mortgages
like Mister Such-and-Such

It's scary sure
to leave the path
made straight by those who lead
And wander off
to God knows where
ignoring friends who plead

It's scary more
to contemplate
where will the money come from
With mouths to feed
and bills to pay
for this future, one looks dumb

Why is it so
that money is God
despite all other costumes
From youth we're told
to pay back loans
till that's all Life presumes

And yet there must
be another path
with no leaders in the way
Down the road we go
a wandering
hearts leading us where they may

The Stillness

Has it always
been this way
I think not in certain places
That weren't too busy
with teeming crowds
but filled with open spaces

Is it that simple
Noise - No  ▪  and Quiet - Yes
which opens the door to Stillness
It isn't simple
but could be easy
following our own consciousness

Yes, all noise
and activity
seems like a wall to block
Access to
moments of
peace, which Quiet can unlock

But give it
a try, when
a kind moment presents
Push the door open
step gently inside
where anything can make sense

Once there
you may see
just the matter at hand
Yet it could lead
to other things
we all try to understand

Such things
it seems
once created, live on
Waiting
for others
to reflect upon  ...  Amen

Time, Where Is Thy Sting

I look back
remembering
through senses recall the more.
Harder it is
to look ahead
and feel just what's in store.

Is the past
the past?
Or bound with us forever?
The now
is now -
but for always - or never?

And the future,
blessed future -
bright as a shining sun.
Who is it
that must be kind -
ourselves - or the Creator One?

Back to now,
blessed now -
with things beyond our reach.
Hours and days,
nights and months,
like surf upon a beach.

When we were young
with hearts ablaze,
each day some dreams we drew.
Who's to say,
with Time aside,
we can make them now anew.

The Throng

Whither I go
I oft step apart
and wait till the tide comes in
For it carries aloft
a calamitous group
who thinks neither sink nor swim

If by the hour
or more the bus
they move on a deadly pace
To stand amidst
sure abolishes
all sense of calm and space

Were we to go
through Life along
a road just lined with glee
It would be
in a world devoid
of folks like you and me

So on we trudge
through thick and thin
in hopes to understand
How everyone
might co-exist
but each - in a separate land

Joys of a Quiet Retreat

[AHA! My first poem, from the Muses of Finland, Helsinki. It is January 2017, and it appears that I have come here in the dark of Winter to get more sleep - and write some poems. Spoiler Alert: Poetic license is in play - as I have no wife.]

You scrimp and save
and toil all week
with just one thing in mind
To pack the car
with everything
and leave the city behind

It's off you go
without a care
and nary a backwards glance
Up the road
through endless fields
where flowers wave and dance

Life is whole
and meaningful,
creation seems just and fair
The little cabin
that awaits
is big enough to share

The crew arrives
unpacks supplies
everything must find its place
It's work, for sure
but done out here
in a quick and joyful pace

In the afternoon
the wife, she cooks
a pleasure she enjoys
I sit and write
and ponder still
a life without the noise

She sings aloud
and breaks my thought
but somehow I don't mind
More cheerful here
of ease disposed
you might even call me kind

Yet there is one thing
to ruin the fun
in the form of a pesky fly
Try as I may
and wish as I might
the darn thing won't say bye-bye

I sit and plot
and watch its moves
for a chance at peace ever-after
when 'round he comes
into my ear
with the sound of a mini-blaster

The deed is done
and war declared
I'm up to end this session
The daily news
already tossed
seems fit for the occasion

I sit again
and now just wait
for the next evil attack
Are you OK?
she calls to me
Oh, yes (if I have the knack)

And soon enough
the battle's rejoined
I spring with cat-like grace
And end the flight
of one who dared
disturb my blessed space