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Selected Poems


I was proud and I was free; winds would call,
but not capture me.
I could taste the salt and brine, on my hide,
the sweat was mine.
But the lope was easy, and the days were sunny;
ah, to stay in the land of milk and honey.




Where the trees drip fruit
And the waves curl warm.
Where winds fan gently
And clouds whisper softly.
Where tides sway slowly
And shifting sands root the land.



 Flying Spiritdolphin

Once cast in the fire of fate,
Do furious passions abate?
Silenced in suspended anticipation,
Invisible traces of agitation,
Recall and renew animation,
Once ignited by the timeless breath.




 mountain lake birdMy ZEN Poem

The mountain remains still,
Its movement unseen by the bird
Whose shadow is small,
A passing reflection on the lake,
Held for only a moment.

Cuts to infinity,
Sounds to eternity,
And leaves little trace.