Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 15

Cross Country

Sometimesyou just want to hop on

ThatHarley and head off to nowhere

Withno given plans,

Orleap on a slow-rolling freight train

Tohide and ride thousands of miles

Acrossvast open lands.

 

Acountryside long and wide

Oceanto ocean, border to boundary

Tomountainside,

Cityto forest to desert and canyon

Fromdawn’s maiden brilliance to eventide.

 

Youmay fly through bright clouds

Layingclaim to her wonders,

Driveher highways and byways in every detail,

Viewher marvels and monuments,

Forestsand foundries,

Followher mysteries

Downevery trail.

 

Whetherby train or plane, auto or boat,

Nomatter how long or how far you may roam

Acrossthis great land, in all of its splendor,

Onething is certain:

Thereis nowhere like home.

 

The Longest Road

Somany highways and byways to roam

Inevery imagined direction.

Somany places to go and to see, but

Toolittle time for reflection.

 

Youthis a footpath of foreshadowed trails,

Muchtoo busy to echo reproach, but

Thesepathways grow longer

Assummers traverse

Andculpability comes to encroach.

 

Thecherished path is the lane that is shared

Withthe one true love, so adored.

Asthe dove lingers long it will warble its song

Likea wayfaring charmed troubadour.

 

Theroadway of age lingers long, travels slow,

Pausingfrequently to contemplate

Allthe streets and the avenues

Crossedand recrossed

Andthe memories each one relates.

 

Butthe longest road,

Theloneliest road,

Iscovered with cobblestone.

Athoroughfare paved in shades of despair,

Forthe longest road is travelled alone.

 

Breathe

Takea moment…

            Take a beat…

Justbreathe.

Beamazed by graces you might find

Sleepingin dark passages where

Dreamsare known to dwell,

Seededdeep inside a tranquil mind.

 

Closeyour eyes…

            Rest your thoughts…

Justbreathe.

Teased,the fickle dantian brings chi

Torise in silent eyes,

Bringstension to a swift demise

Andsets a weary spirit free.

 

Countyour blessings…

            Muse your boon…

Justbreathe.

Themind can be a transporting chair,

Avehicle able to roam anywhere.

Andall may book passage to go there if you will

Justbreathe.

 

A Twist of Fate

Plansare great…

            And necessary.

Everyoneshould have a goal

Alongwith a map to get there

Tohelp them grasp and keep control.

 

Butplans are often sidetracked by

Asure but subtle twist of fate

Thatrecasts hunger’s fierce desire

Andoccupies a different plate.

 

Evenblatant surety

Cannotbe grist to guarantee that

Everyplan must carry true to form.

Theride of cunning circumstance

Canoft unveil the gypsy’s dance

Andtransform to a search for unicorns.

 

Butdreams need not be abdicated

Justbecause plans break apart.

Theshattered pieces congregate to

Finda brand-new place to start.

 

Focus!Focus on the point.

Importantplans do not abate.

Theycan thrive and will survive

Themeanest, harshest twist of fate.

 

Do It Now

Don’twait.

There’llnever be a better time.

Doit now.

Scratchit off your bucket list,

Kissthat one you should have kissed,

Whate’erthe fates allow,

Doit now.

 

Takea chance

Whenthe wheel comes spinning round to

Findromance.

There’sa one for everyone so

Setyour sights beyond the sun,

Neverleave the race unrun.

Doit now.

 

It’sokay.

There’sno need to put it off

Anotherday.

There’sno time for mincing words, 

Wastingtime would be absurd.

Youcan argue afterward,

Justdo it now.

 

Life Goes On

Heraldsblast harsh bugle’s bray,

Theharbinger of sad report,

Andtime is scattered in the breath

Ofoutcomes unacceptable.

 

Leftalone to sink or swim in

Torrentsof survivor’s guilt,

Thenumbness settles over

Untiljoy is imperceptible.

 

Andfairness is a kudzu vine

Thatstrangles everything in reach

Tilmadness becomes logic’s bane

Andsadness transcends common sense.

 

Butsadness is a masquerade

Thattrades reality for peace

Andsuffers guilt for pity’s sake

Withoutthe joy of recompense.

 

AndI and you and he and she

Andwe will all be better served

Tooverflow by letting go

Andfind the peace we so deserve.

 

What’sdone is done.

What’sgone is gone.

Forthose remaining…

Lifegoes on.

 

Night Shadows and Nightmares

Nightshadows fall as

Thesun sings his curtain-call

Eerilystalking in stark apparition.

Shouldbe a time for peaceful reflection,

Soothingand still at the end of the day.

 

Sooneyes must close

Assleep is a requisite.

Afull day tomorrow… must be refreshed.

Cannotbe slave to inane inconveniences.

Won’tlet clear nuisances get in the way.

 

Butdemons have other ideas and intentions.

Theyskulk in the background ready to pounce

Atthe first sign of slumber

Dredgingup images,

Horrors,unthinkable, pulled from the past.

 

Solong ago in a faraway place

Nightmaresthat time can never erase.  

Onemoment there, bright smiling face, then

Gonein an instant without a trace.

 

Oh,God, how long must this wicked night last?

 

Pride

Prideis a peacock strutting his plumage,

Climbingthe ego escalator,

Bubble-wrappedin vanity and

Voidof all humility,

Vaingloryarrogance taken to the nth degree.

 

Snobberytrumps self-esteem and

Dignityyields to vain conceit,

Andhonor becomes a stranger

Beggingquarters for a bite to eat.

 

Butthen…

Nothing’swrong with hubris tempered

Witha skosh of self-respect,

Anornamented mystery

Wheretruth and logic intersect.

 

Pridein appearance,

Pridein community,

Pridein the nation that we serve.

Pridein our yearning for liberty

Givesus the freedom we deserve.

 

Fragments of Hope

Evenin the worst of times

Whenfaith dwells near abandonment,

Andtrust appears a unicorn

Impossibleto hold,

Thesetiny fragments still remain

Andlift their voices in refrain

Tosing that we are foreordained

Tosoftly tread on streets of gold.

 

Weknow not our destiny,

Darenot rely on prophecy

Toforetell outcome in our “wannabee”.

Butif these fragments are employed

Theirroots can flower into joy

Andlift us from the dregs of drudgery.

 

Letall rejoice to realize

Thatoptimism never dies,

Butgently waits in patient afterglow.

Itscolorful kaleidoscope

Existsin fragments filled with hope

Andthat is all we really need to know.

 

Age is Just a Number

FatherTime is masterful at

Changingplots and storylines,

Andall bear witness as

Thetransformations are discerned.

Asseason shifts to season

Etchedin incremental stages,

Mortalitybecomes

Anunavoidable concern.

 

Butage is just a number

Andold is but a state of mind.

AndI’ll be here (until I’m not),

So,set the feast and pour the wine.

 

LikeMister Frost whose lifelong task

Wasoft misunderstood,

Butfound the road to longevity

Ina lonely yellow wood.

 

OrGlenn, the younger, circumnavigating

Timeand space

ToGlenn, the elder, after

Sevendecades and still in the chase.

 

So,let the aging process roll

Uncheckedand unforgiving,

AndI’ll be here (until I’m not)

Tomake the most of living.