Eyes of a Poet


I’ve weathered storms

Climbed tall mountains,

washed my hands

in city park fountains,

I wake up wondering

what new thing I’ll have to try.


I’ve seen the world through

the eyes of a poet:

Observing while I stand alone.

Never a thought

of wanting to change things,

What can you do

when the seed’s been sown.


The robin rocks and rolls upon receipt

of a young boy’s slingshot stone,

The eagle flies in darkened skies,

and on Friday afternoons

Sometimes I laugh

like a crazy hyena,

Sometimes I howl at the moon.


Well hiddy hiddy ho

and tally tally ho

Too many choices

which way to go?

But, you know, the damnedest thing of all is,

actually – only one way is right.


Keeping writing the songs that are in your heart.

Peace be with you.