The first cry of the bald eagle
   echoes across silent lakes
   still locked in Winter's ice
   as it circles endless space
   high above a living canvas.
   Winter's icy grip weakens
   as the northern forest awakens:
   delicate flowers bloom timidly,
   shivering in the cool breezes.
   Their splashes of sudden colour
   livens up the forest floor.
   Spring's greenery emerges,
   softening bleak open spaces:
   leaves and fresh grasses spring to life
   becoming forage for deer and elk.
   Spring's sun brightens a pastel sky,
   warming meadows and rolling hills,
   melting away the last hidden snow
   to the happy songs of robins
   bathing in moss-lined pools.
   On The Brink
   The world we know was always able
   to sustain nature's simple needs,
   but not designed to fully explain
   the life journey of the human soul:
   now a new force has been unleashed
   suddenly, relentlessly moving man
   forward to the new dawn
   beyond the edge of time.
   Many are those who fearfully resist
   this unexpected change;
   who will fall to certain death
   never having walked upon,
   perhaps never even having glimpsed,
   that ghostly distant shore
   hidden beyond the misty veil.
   Awakened with a rush of life
   by the light of a new morning,
   they see the edge of a canyon,
   a chasm too wide to cross:
   afraid to jump into the unknown
   they huddle fearfully
   on the brink looking down at death.
   How I long to tell them not to fear,
   to leap! to jump! across this canyon
   however deep or wide it may appear
   for things are not what they seem
   in these times of changing thoughts;
   that the life energy will carry them
   across the fading greying mists
   to a mountain leading above the clouds,
   to a paradise I've seen and touched.
   Orange Peel
   Like a moldy orange peel,
   our earth is cloaked
   in a dying system
   based on repression.
   She waits patiently
   for people to awaken
   or some space alien,
   or god to return
   and gently peel away
   the old skin, uncovering
   her new identity.
   Shore Of Mystery
   Your wraithlike dance
   on the ocean's stormy shore;
   your graceful steps along the surf;
   your long hair blowing in the wind;
   your swaying body
   shrouded in time's mystery;
   reveal the coming, the strength,
   the growing passion of my love.
   The ocean's ageless song
   uncovers love's desire
   as dwarfed by restless waves
   I watch your image dimmed
   by the mist in my eyes.
   Song Of The Cedars
   Above a quiet mountain lake
   deep in the Summer of my visions,
   I saw a man dive off a cliff,
   to the blue waters far below,
   yet before he hit the waters,
   I saw him turn into a majestic eagle,
   and as he spread his wings
   transform himself into a Goddess
   of golden hue...
   I watched as she floated to the sand,
   and stretched her arms to the sun:
   Then I recognized her 
   as her hair came tumbling 
   and she danced along the shore.
   singing her song from the clouds:
   It was Tara, 
   calling to me again!
   and I went to her
   soaring upon the mountain breeze,
   bringing her the song of the cedars;
   and there within her gold,
   on white sands, under blue skies
   shimmering in the Summer's heat
   the Goddess and I
   touched heaven.
   The Wish 
   Were I to be granted one wish -- 
   no quid pro quo, no restrictions, no limits -- 
   infinite possibilities turned to reality, 
   what would I wish for? 
   Better to begin the quest with: 
   "What would I choose not to wish for?" 
   for how else would I know to make the right choice? 
   (and so it began.) 
   Immortality -- 
   To live forever, forever the same 
   amid the changing seasons and currents of evolution; 
   helpless in the passage of time -- 
   The curse and ultimate madness of the gods. 
   Omnipresence -- 
   To be aware of all things without confusion 
   sitting at the centre of the All Thing 
   but what would I be doing there? Nothing -- 
   Just another all-seeing voyeur in boredom. 
   Omniscient -- 
   the All-knowing walking through the All Time 
   no secrets, no surprises, no mistakes even; 
   all knowledge mine, all hints of possibilities: certainties -- 
   Nothing ever new under any sun. 
   I've thought this through carefully -- 
   yes, since I was a Child I've considered this Place 
   knowing one day I'd arrive here. 
   Crawling, walking, running, now flying, 
   I've come, ready or not, to the Portal of Decision -- 
   The Sphinx is about to ask His Question and 
   I can have my wish now -- 
   no one will gainsay my choice. 
   What do I wish for? 
   Hear this well, you who now have a share in life; 
   who see death as a reprieve, or as an end; 
   who would rely on hope and on faith 
   to see you through these darkening days: