I wrote this in such a hopeful time, it deserves to be posted again now in the heat of summer.

Hope Comes

1.

As the rational

fades away

a new force

chaotic

architecture

emerges its

face like a

firefly

saying

this too is

The Way in.

2.

The one word

that best describes

me is poet.

Two words:

buoyant seeker.

3.

Dear Pickle, be

safe through this

birth and life

even in death.

Dear (cat, kitten)

Pickle, I can

only dedicate my

time with you

to loving you.

I love you more

than any being

has ever loved

and equally just the

same.

4.

I don’t know who you

are or why you wondered

here beside me in front of a

waiting room television turned

to FOX or as a friend on facebook.

But still, I hope you feel

wrapped in a blanket of

love, even if you would not

meet my eye, greet me, or

sing with me

in and out

loudly but impossible

in an ocean of Quaker

silence.

5.

I am a bounty -

the harvest - the

first Thanksgiving -

a reproduction of

feasts...

You are a vegan.

I am ham.

You are kosher.

This is a dirty pickle.

We float together

offering grace to

a time of Easter.

6.

I did not know

I was perfect

until today

pausing to think of you

and you are

perfect too.

Like solid colors

propped against

the backdrop of time.

7.

When I stop

making much sense... That

is when my beauty unfolds.

Stop for just one second

the “grandiose” diagnostic and call

me a creative genius

of spiritual proportions.

8.

“Enough is enough.”

But I can’t go to bed.

In my mind I imagine Libb

y tickled pink

knowing that every word to

inch off my tongue

will be poetry.

Aware that actually

the whole world WILL

ONE DAY STOP DYING.

Born

Free

Again!!!

9.

Every word I use brings

this farther from the truth

I worry. But then I

see that you have witnessed

my humanity. And humanity

IS truth. Truth is God.

God is (God) too.

10.

Am I insane?

Or just speculatively

planning my escape to

a fact, one that I am

just fine as I am

no matter what happens?

11.

Usually my poems are

more of tangibles,

visions of things that

grant me hope and peace.

Tonight I speak of

nothing but my thoughts

convincing myself forever that

they are good and right.

12.

And if ever you

doubt that there is hope

in the world, think again

of ripples growing to

waves to crash on a shore

of hopeful shellfish and twisting

sandpipers rising to the bate

of life.