Between

Eye sees two possibilities post mortem;
reincarnation as a second chance;
heaven a short cut out of the mess.

Let us hope according to our beliefs.
May it be for each as each believes.
No guarantees, needless to say.

Fear not in spite
Be of quiet mind
Be of loving heart.

Stark Retelling

Lights are required for surgery.
Light is needed to see the woods
walk in February

We sea reflections
We move anong shadows
Creation's stark retelling

Winter Cover

There are people who rarely know happiness
Think of them when you do poetry
that sentiments able to wing
somehow give solace to other's sadness
like summer leaves reach earth in autumn

Thanksgiving

The suffering permitted me to taste,
to taste and to endure,
I thank Him for it.

Fire to the kiln
Love exceed my limitations
in the holocaust of thanksgiving.

The Boy Next Door

He's about 6 foot 7, skinny as a rail.
and moves in the kitchen
like a ballerina.

Before he raises to his mouth the first fork
of whatever it is he microwaves, he violently twitches
His arms kung fu in every directions.

Am I spying on my neighbors.
You bet I am.
You think I hang binoculars around my neck for nothing.

I spy on everyone; bloggers, tweeters.
and husbands fighting their wives in bedrooms.
Me calls it social anthropology.

An Admirable Departure

Her sisters, her daughters, the crippled son
who shared with her the one room house
agreed Mama wasn't looking right.

No easy feat to convince her see a doctor.
Cajoled, pushed and pulled, the Matriarch
is forced into a taxi, her impressive size.

She sheen and black in a made in a U.K.cab
rolls down the hill to Port of Spain
little houses on both sides.

Foot on brake manage the steep,
Hold the narrow towards Fisherman's Beach
Cab careens, driver rear views the passenger.

Grumble they mumble, the ride is a rumble
Matriarch insists Hussein turn around
No clinic today nor ever

I'll die here where I sit. Yep, Hussein turns around in their cab.
Word gets around.

Back in her homestead, Mama tip toes to window
where pipe in hand for decades she pondered
the flatness and shimmer of the Caribbean.

Then, grasping her chest, she heads to the four post bed
between the prints of  St. Jude Thaddeus and Archangel Gabriel
squashing the head of Dragon, pictorial representation of Satan.

And there dies she, Notable Healer Woman
Village midwife of dozens
who also could freeze snakes at 16 paces.

She smiles that last smile
few of us shall be blessed to smile
upon our dying bed.

4 Taste

The grounds wet,
night's cool prevails

Wind and birds trill
the anthem of earthly pleasures

Encoded in our senses,
the taste of heaven