An Ebb and Flow Ovation

Moonlight’s reflections bounce off canyon walls

My head leans back and my eyes close, as if the sun’s warmth is spreading across my face

The sound of rushing water pulls itself up, steps forward, not wanting to remain in the background

And I listen intently for the very first time

Droplets fall, currents move

The sound of a million hands clapping, an ovation

Not for one, but for both, ebb and flow

Taking quick bows, rushing off to create another moment


Originally posted October 5, 2015


Today Not a Day of Voices

Soft blades of grass

Pillowed beneath my head

My hand shields the sun from my eyes

Rays soak through the cracks between my fingers

Making me squint just a bit

No breeze to be found

The thick heat, frozen in the air

Unable to move, it waits and stares

It has all the time in the world

To sit and keep me company

It’s quiet, almost too quiet

Even if I were miles away

The sound of stillness would be the same

At least it would be on this day, today

I remain silent

Even if I wanted to speak

My lips would move

But no sound would emerge

Because today is not a day of voices, not today

There will be plenty of tomorrows to be heard

Instead I float, suspended in time

Living in just this moment while it lasts

*Originally posted August 15, 2015

Release the Anxious Sun

He called out

He waited, but the echo never returned

Instead he was greeted with the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end

Poking needles, a reminder of yesterday

How the sun rose in the sky, but never found the horizon to lay its head down at day’s end

The sun only waited and watched from above, trying to understand the hidden meanings that sometimes do not exist

Overcomplicating the simplicity of the moment

We are no better off reading tea leaves in a tiny cup

Floating in hot water

Steeping again and again, void of flavor and color

Drying spent leaves in the heat of the sun brings no salvation nor reprieve

They forever remain tasteless and grey

Instead, release the anxious sun, cycles need to complete

Allowing days to end, new yesterdays to birth

So a response can be heard the next time we call out


Originally posted October 12, 2015

Bottom of Dried Wells

Handstands on bicycles

Hanging upside down by my shoelaces

Walking backwards with the aid of a mirror

Seeing life from a different vantage point

At this point

I’ll try anything

I’m tired of sitting at bottoms of dried wells

In darkness, suffocating on dusty air

Tired of throwing rocks blindly into the fog

Desperately searching for a light to guide my way


Originally posted June 20, 2015

My First Book – The Sabbatical Months

After encouragement to share my story, I’ve published my first book, The Sabbatical Months.  Without writing experience, my path began from experimental writing, to the creation of this blog and now to print.  This is a travel through poetry of my six month journey healing from darkness.   The preface of the book is included below.

I was not a writer, nor a poet. I was just a guy who was living life the best I could and suddenly found himself surrounded by darkness.  After years of suppressing the stress of life and career, I took the unusual step of hitting pause and stepped off the path to stop, reflect and heal.  Although that was my intention, I had no idea how to get there.

I don’t know why I picked up a pen to write. The only poetry that I had written was decades ago for a high school assignment.  It was an uncomfortable feeling to expose myself on paper, especially since I am not one to share what is inside.  But the words came and I tried capturing them as best as I could. Most of the poems were written in the moment, without multiple drafts to perfect the message or grammar.  Many of the poems have overlapping phrases, images or sentiments.  I only noticed this after the sabbatical when re-reading my writing in aggregate.  Although tempted to exclude some of the poems that felt a bit repetitious, I later decided against it because these words reflect the true outpouring of the moment.  These phrases or themes are the result of a part of me that needed time to birth, grow, age and eventually move on.  Others still remain with me either waiting their turn to depart or continuing to make themselves at home within me.  Everything has their own time.  Such is life.

The following is raw and unrefined.  It reflects six months of healing where I faced my own darkness, accepted who I am, revisited memories of my past and eventually was able to move forward.  My life is still a work in progress.  The only difference now is understanding how to coexist with the darkness.  Sometimes I may win, other times not.  However, the journey from these sabbatical months provided me the strength to continue on.  The following pages reflect this journey.  This is me.

Any comments or support is appreciated.  Please click on the link below to view my book on Amazon.

Amazon: The Sabbatical Months

Whiskey Haze

Whiskey from coffee mugs

A haze masked with a smile

Voices settle in the backseat, sleeping

No longer whispering in my ear, at least for tonight

A slow sip

A quick swallow

The warmth of yesterday’s footsteps trickle down my throat

As I watch sheer window curtains blow with the cool wind, silently

Sun rays try to seep in, sunrise or sunset, not quite sure which

My lids lower under the weight of a thousand pounds

And I join them in slumber, at peace for now


Originally posted September 26, 2015


Whispered messages

Written words on billboards coded just for me

Self-interpreted images in a gallery

Understanding cloud formations in the sky

Reading glances from strangers walking by

More difficult – reading the faces of friends and peers

Unable to shut out the voices in my head

That get louder the quieter the space

Unable to find their meaning

Difficult to trust what I believe

My thoughts are clouded and influenced by my self-image

Trapped by struggles of my own reality


Originally posted June 14, 2015