I do openly admit to selfishness

Not all my life has been so dark

Or series of misery after another

I’ve had my cherishable moments

In relationships, and successes

And because I so treasure them

I’ll rarely share them with others

They serve in part as beacons of hope

When all else seems to go wrong

They remind me of the possibilities

When I feel closed in by my walls            

They are lifelines in human storms

That helps to maintain my sanity         

They’ll be here… as comforting stars


Poet of the Light © 2022  


Micro cues are very telling

However, there’s no telling

What they mean from person to person

Everything is just general in nature

Whereas nuances are conjecture

And people must invest real time

Before they can benefit from guesses

It’s still called getting to know someone

Learning the tones of their voices

Any reactionary mood changes

Quirky glances across a room

Longing stare into each other’s eyes

Juxtaposing hurt and joyful tears

When to care and when… to be quite


Poet of the Light © 2022


Photo by Pixabay on

An hour before every sunset

I’ll walk to the water’s edge

The evening breeze is blowing

And daylight is slowly crashing

Temperatures have started to fall  

So, I take a seat on the bench

Watch schools of shadows swim

As waves rush from here and fro

Mirrored caps of light explode

Upon a swaying watery surface

Memories play on a hazy fabric  

Voices sound like floating whispers

But all I can long for in my heart

Is one more last hour… in person  


Poet of the Light © 2022


Photo by Rodolfo Quiru00f3s on

I may have been the next Holden Caulfield

But life intervened in a charitable fashion

That’s not to say that I hadn’t been affected

By things I experienced, witnessed, or lived

Clearly, I’d be one of the first to fully admit

People let you down, though it’s uncertain

If each time it was intentionally motivated

I error on the side of caution, to believe not     

If I am truly the product of my environment

Who is it by name, to fault, to seek recompense?        

What would any of that gain me now, so late;

A dying flower will still wilt away, will it not?     

Rather than become an imaginary inky character

I became the outcome of myself… in real life  


Poet of the Light © 2022


Photo by Guryan on

Like a colorless rainbow adrift

Long before I landed in winter

I loved akin a season of spring

I stood in cold breezes of despair

Sat through the hours of lonely  

Watched the fog steal sunshine

Walked in rains in uncertainty

Swallowed all my broken pride

Still, my love would trudge on

Battered, bruised, and scarred

Despite all these things you do                            

Despite all the words you utter           

I’m a ghost you’ve never known     

Since you’ve never desired… love


Poet of the Light © 2022


Photo by Jeswin Thomas on

Just off a summit point path

It was a view overlooking water

As well all the lower elevations

Just a lone bench tucked under

An umbrella shade of an oak tree

I’d often visit, even at twilight

Amidst cosmological tranquility

Staring at the stars in heaven

Improvised scenes on a fogy fabric

That had never realized the fruition

All poets are but great dreamers

They paint elegance from their heart

As they try to live it ever so briefly

Before it slips back into… invisibility  


Poet of the Light © 2022


Writing is very cathartic

Like finally walking in the door

Taking in a deep breath of home

Letting out all the ugly toxicity

And slipping off a heavy day

As you slowly ease into a chair

Worthy of your tired derriere

Writing can seem like body armor

Before the fight between lines

Where heroes become the masters

And villains are mere ghostlike               

Where truer love can be found

In the most unnuanced moments    

Even if only in a heart’s… realm


Poet of the Light © 2022

fruition (long read)

Photo by Gabriel Peter on

I too, go now soon

Where is as I must

Before the snows fall

And greys become dust   

After all, tis my very nature

Heavenly hands instilled

And life nurtured by moonlights

As an inner child’s dream in truth

I’ll ascend near where Eagles soar   

There, up in a corner summit borrow

And campfires are lost to darkness

Where snippets of life are painted

In colors of wild mountain flowers

And lush meadow green lands

And sprinkles of sparkling stars    

Higher than is here now

Where breezes tumbleweeds for miles   

Across dried-out level landscapes  

Where Bison herds and bears roamed

Amongst glacier lakes and tall grasses

Back in a time long before I was born

When stars were filled with prayers   

And I too must complete a cycle

And I’ll do so with my Lord savior

Listening to my humbled heart speak

The way a Father does to his child  

As I bear witness of those who loved me  

And those who wiped my salty tears

Fed my broken heart promising stories

Triaged my rented skin and soul

Steeped me in warms cups of forgiveness

Reminded me of my mountainous mission   

In betwixt quiet hours of inner peace

And glorious dawns of dewy mornings

Where Mother nature kisses all living  

I’ll colorfully imbue as memories

Imprinted gingerly on my soul’s fabric

Carrying with to unabashedly boast

Where I’m from and to where I go  

As I walk in the complicit echoes

By legions of revered Poets of old

Whispering our creative thoughts

Into sleepy young hearts, we left behind

That try to comprehend why

Their tender nature compels them  

To sit thoughtlessly… admiring summits   

Poet of the Light © 2022

Secret sighs

Photo by David Cassolato on

I keep looking to catch a glimpse  

Of you outside my window  

But I only catch myself instead  

Reflecting off the dirty glass  

As my heart sinks another level  

I find it harder to even swallow 

My sadness keeps growing older  

And my life keeps feeling colder  

Happiness and warmth are absent  

I have stopped making any excuses   

Whether or weather has blended  

Neither seems to even matter  

Nothing can fill the void of love  

Once you had it… and then lost it  


Poet of the Light © 2022