Mirrors

Some believe..

others seem to know..

there is..very close

another dimension

we are enclosed

within..

if so

does a mirror

this new identity

show..?

A simple mirror

glass with black back..

but other combinations

may be preferred..

light and darkness

our sky and our earth

 these such oppositions..

and one more:

Does our mirror

both project and reflect..?

That we are

such a mirror

there's a special effect..

without our dark side

transparent we are..

shattering our glass

a black hole

of a sudden appears

absorbing not reflecting

our hidden light..

Might we now realize

each of us owns

our special share

of the dark..?

that our glass 

is un-shattered

is liquid and still..?

connecting all in

the light it projects

and we with joy

from our darkness

reflect...

The Old Halltree

much life observed..

its mirror

has reflected

over a century of faces..

a covered wagon

climbing Allegheny gaps.. 

arriving now

in its present station

decorated each season..

 now dressed awaiting

costumed children

with their bags 

of treats..

it has not always

reflected

joy and celebration

undoubtedly many sorrows

its mirror was shown..

taken for granted

many stored muddy boots

hats soaked with sweat..

a chair holding

warm garments

during cold winters past..

a mirror

must have a

dark back side

for its job of reflecting..

this mirror's darkness

composed of 

wet mud and dry dust

the wood encrusted with

 deposits of earth..

sorrow and pain

these layers are there..

darkness and glass

formed the mirror

we see..

reflecting 

the sun of mornings

as wagon wheels turned..

and quite soon

the laughter of children

on this Halloween..

Raindrops on a Windshield

she asked:

are there words

hiding in raindrops

waiting to be born..?

their life expectation

was really quite short

awaiting only

the swipe of

a windshield wiper..

Some special drops

her camera captured

in one of those

dissolving moments..

one small drop

glimmered with

a pure white light

others angled with

curved prism color..

white and colors

created

but soon destroyed

by those ever 

persistent and ruthless  

blades..

this play of light

we might reflect

paints our portrait

on a canvas of glass 

those colors with white

body and soul

together

life and death

so temporary

yet so significant..

because of awareness

our awareness makes

it so...

Compassion

A light within

is dimmed

when compassion

looks elsewhere

for a home..

Our going forth 

is tethered

to a light

we have and own..

Remembering

Returning

Replenishing

is the splendid core

of compassion..

Then we are

fed and ready

for compassion

to find its way

away from home...

The Web

We are no doubt

each of us

entangled..

entangled in darkness

and in light..

Suffering arrives

with the illusion

that these are

separate entanglements

or that

they are not...

falling leaves

we know 

that falling leaves

speak of death
in a season..

then we wonder

are we falling 

as  the leaves..

falling also with
 autumn beauty..?

we see veins 

in each leaf

circulation channels..

 nourishment

no more flowing from

a nurturing tree..

a branch from its

root now cast away..
and we wonder

where is our

root as our 

nourishment fades..?

similarities abound

we and the leaves..

 fearful we are

with our hidden root..
yet we wonder

have we found
 vision and courage..
beholding anew

 creation's falling beauty

light's filtered colors...?

Timberlines

this is an autumn
treeline reflection..
stark edges
demarcations of
minerals and trees..
a reminder of
other dividing lines..
as when we hear
strange notes of the
coyote's scream..
Are there other
lines to be found..?
Where are our inner
shadows and lights
so precisely bound..?

below treeline
golden aspens glow
out-lined and brightened
by the forest's black..
other glistening lights
mark rippling streams..
Meanwhile--
the cowboy poet
renders joyful lines
of wholeness
embracing all such
lights..
and timberlines...