a note*

Everything I post here I have previously published on the many other blogs I have had. This is a place for my favourites to rest. These are the wings that taught me i could fly and that there is life waiting, far beyond the ridge.

If you care to comment, just drop me an email at grayhawk77@yahoo.com


Monday, July 9, 2012


Was the time

peace was easy

found in every place

grand mountains

glossed by clouds

an alone loon

calling for comfort

a trickle of a creek

the tickle of the waves

The moon

God yes the moon!

that caused eyes to sparkle

painting the dark,

water to shimmer

leaves to glow

it gave colour to wind

My youth owned such peace

in every place and stable

I was it's master

it danced to my string

I need peace

seek it

cry for it

chase it

Peace in love

in faith

in friends

in sleep

in balance

in contentment

It used to come

in boxes not tied

in bloom unwrapped

space unfettered

Now winter has come

to the roses bloom

all boxed and tied

who dances to the tether now?

All seems noise and

chaos colluding

A tea spoon dropped

a dog's bark

a horn's honk

a look

Not just any noise

industrial noise, all

whistles loud

grinders screaming

smoke forcing

time clocks ticking

Who turned the volume up

then took the switch?

does the loon still sail and cry?

can he be purchased?

So I run to other doors

and knock

but locks on all

I twizzle and invent

beg and implore

And what of you moon?

when did you become an icen rock?

you of all

my one branch

always at my shoulder

Have I played to pain so long

that now we are one

and peace in a maze

of no answer

If only the volume

I could control

if only the loon

would sing once more