3 haiku
red and yellow leaves
crackle under marching feet,
whispers of winter
an old man has died;
raindrops fall on melting snow,
robins peck at it
brief as a firefly
goldfish slides under pad
in dusky water
The poet
is a misfit
disaffecting
those who would control her
she's trouble
like plato's escaped prisoner
delights in discovery
in seeing further
though she may be
blind as homer
and when her faith
wiggles out of its cocoon
into a poem
it sometimes has wings
Chinese formula poem
Ethnic cleansing is sometimes justified
he tells the crowd
which roars approval
claps and shouts
believing
what goes around
doesn't comes around
when you're armed to the teeth,
and special.
St. Peter isn't there this time,
just an old man
sucking on an empty pipe.
The cock (who isn’t necessary)
crows twice
then keels over.
Knocking on heaven's door
Those who knock on heaven's door
know how to open it
Some call their knocking change of heart,
amazing grace, or turning to the Spirit
Some shape the silence of that place
seeking solace, or a victory
Some knock with drums, and dance
on sacred waves of sound
or make poetry, creating the world
with wands of words
paint, heal, build,
sculpt, sing in that space
And all who knock reach within
for the divine beyond themselves.
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