Requiem Aeternam

Walking through the world
My step stumbles
His voice, her voice, their voices
Heard in my heart, in my head
Out here in the wide world
Where they are no more.


His face, her face, their faces
Swim before my eyes
As they once were
As they will always be
For—remembered—they remain
With us always.

Lux perpetua luceat eis
Dona eis requiem

So Far? - Yet Here

What mean these Miles?
For you are close 
And near 
As Thought.

Far you are not.
For you I behold 
And hold you 
In Memory.

Apart can we be?
For do we not touch —
And kiss 
In Dream?

A Million Miles are
As Naught
To Thought, and Memory
And Dream

And you are here, my Love!

I have my friend, Suze, to thank for the image in this one - I hope she doesn't mind what I did with it.


Dark, Night
Atop a tall crag
He awakes
And looks out.
All round him
The silver, gray, black
of the Mountain
Towers above him,
Below him

He stretches.
The pectoral muscles
Push power through one
Mighty Wing
Held aloft in an
Upswept Arc.
The other unfurls
Reaching many feet to the side -

He raises his face
And sniffs the Wind
Cold, Sharp, Thin.
It is Time.

Yet he hangs back
For this is New.
Below him stretches Infinity
And above him
The Night sky goes on

He steps to the Edge.
Are there no Gods
To witness this?
To invoke?
To protect?

The Answer comes
High on the Wind,

He leaps,
And with one twist
Of Mighty Wing


One day, on my way through a shopping mall I was asked the question that begins the following. I remember very little of the remainder of that outing - there was too much going on inside.

 Pain - Back again

"Do you suffer from back pain?"
Asked a smiling, blond
Florence Nightingale
Whose badge proclaimed
"Hi, I'm Cherry" -

"Back pain? No..."
I answered, in half-surprise
And awakened memories
Washed over me in waves
She bid me farewell
With a wish that my day would be nice
And I went my way.

There were no words to explain
That it was not my back
But my heart, perhaps my soul
That needed care
And the pain would not ease again
for some time.

A young woman I once spoke with in Wexford asked a question about our Irish gray skies which I did not understand until years later in California. It shares Melbourne's unending, clear, blue skies.

The Maid of Melbourne #1

A simple question from
The Maid of Melbourne
She - reared in such Sunny climes
Understood not
The romance of Dark, Dour days.

Perhaps she saw
      - that there was no Romance
      just -
The Darkness

But I was a young man then - with a young man's fascination for the physical rather than the philosophical. I wonder did she ever get an answer to her question...

The Maid of Melbourne #2

The Maid of Melbourne
Product of Friendly Skies
Judged ours to Glower
Therefore people Dour?
But I - poor Host -
Was already lost
- Those eyes!

I greet the day with pain-filled eyes
And sorrow on my tongue like wine
For all the lost love, friends and lies
And naught is left me now, but time.

Through day-long dark I search for light
What's found is dust and ash and old
Oh, would that I could just take flight
And leave the dark, the fear, the cold.

Night then comes, I am alone
And hug that to myself for warmth
Much had I - now much is gone
Left in its wake this need, this want.

Bathed in all this pain, this dread
My heart is weeping
And bitter,
                bitter tears are shed.



You are ever near
My Love
I see you
Almost there -
You have just left
Every room
As I enter
The sound of your voice
Is just -
Out of range.

I feel your Presence
And turn
To talk with you
And you are 
gone -
Just this moment

Ah my Love!
Why are you so close?
When you are so far

This love, when we parted
'Twas said
would change.
And change it has
For it has gone
gone -

Gone into the marrow of my bones
And the depths of my heart.