jimowenswrites

Reflections on Life, Leadership, Mindfulness, Change, and other Important Stuff

Month: February, 2015

The wild man’s heart

The wild man’s heart longs for a different place.

 

Hearing his own songs on the  gentle breeze

through the Fall’s whispering trees.

 

Atop the dry leaves of forgotten dreams,

The wild man roams to lands unseen.

 

In quieted mind he finds perfection

as others see just insurrection.

 

Over rocks he treads, eyes on the path;

facing toward some wintry blast.

 

The wild man presses through hollow and hill.

looking to find adventures still.

 

Fording waters roiling and white,

by sweat of brow, through dark and light.

 

Cliffs ascending and dark chasms to face,

the wild man seeks true nature’s place.

 

The wild man wears no other man’s halter

refusing to bend or ‘ere to falter.

 

Through calm and storm he changes not course,

the wild man rides  a relentless horse.

 

The common path he has forsaken

in courageous and bold expectation.

 

With kinsmen unwilling, others forsaking.

the wild man’s journey, his life’s undertaking.

 

He drives by fallen oak and through the sharp thorns.

Grabbing beasts by both their great horns.

 

And when ends the wild man’s way,

He worries not what others might say.

 

For the wild man’s heart longs for a different place.

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I drink the water

I drink the water

drawn from the dark well.

Rising up from the earth

to sate my desire

quenching my thirst.

 

I drink the water

refreshing and sweet.

No small gentle sips,

washing and healing

my blistered raw lips.

 

I drink the water.

Great gulps in my belly

dry tongue’s restoration

and body renewed,

this cooling libation.

 

I drink the water

of life true and full.

What else would I do?

Along this grand journey,

but drink my life new.

I hear the bells ringing

I hear the bells ringing,

off in the distance

Softly they’re singing

as they rise to the clouds

 

Calling me toward home,

Like a sweet symphony,

From the places I roam,

Songs full of laughter.

 

Up toward the bright heaven,

Restoring my soul.

My life they do leaven

Like freshly baked bread.

 

Through noise and the fray

Piercing the rancor,

Of a busy life’s day

Cooling refreshment they bring.

 

Melodies on the light breeze

Refreshing and sweet

Filling this full heart

With a simple kind ease.

 

The willows and pine

Adding to the bell’s tune

A taste of Divine

I gulp this elixir.

 

They ring me all through

Off in the distance

Can you hear them too?

Oft have I wondered: Ode to the Tomcat

Oft have I wondered at the animals He made.

 

The lion and horse to me do make sense.

The dog needs a master and the cow his wide fence.

 

Even the rabbit and chicken seem rather right.

But why the tomcat, who howls in the night?

 

I know its unfair and really quite wrong,

But why should the feline scream nightly his song?

 

Were I the Master and able to make

A beast like the cat, then make no mistake.

 

I’d surely and gently, completely correct

The cat’s one apparent and howling defect.

 

Though partial to canine so loyal and true

Be much assured, this one thing I’d do.

 

While Tom has his place in my new domain

I quell all his racket and make him refrain.

Time is a narrow gray man

Time is a narrow gray man

sitting on a bench,

wrinkled with joy and sorrow.

Time watches those who pass by

and wonders at their pace.

Time inhales and exhales,

in fatigue and curiosity,

hoping they will breathe deeply in his presence.

Time laughs gently at his children,

big and small, who think they know the way.

Time glances with a nod at those who see him,

hoping others would closely look his way.

Time dreams great dreams,

wishing we would too.

Time is a narrow gray man sitting on a bench.

Waiting

There’s a rhythm

There’s a rhythm and rhyme

that seems near divine

in the poet’s soft verse.

 

My life he has written

in these words that I listen

and he pierces me to core.

 

In quiet circumspection

through his kind heart’s reflection,

these words from deep places.

 

Though if he may write

some song of the night

be not dismayed or refrain.

 

For the words he is giving

are full of life living,

he speaks them gentle and true.

 

All things of import

are the poet’s report,

‘ere borne of some pain or great joy.

 

At the words fair and whole,

that call to thy Soul,

they may yet lead you home.

 

This rhythm and rhyme

can be quite sublime

for those who would listen.

With courage to fight

With courage to fight

in the darkest of night

and facing the fear

he carried so near,

his Sword to the lair.

 

The Dragons did wait

not knowing their fate

came Knight with the sword

to face this black horde

of what waited there.

 

This valiant defender

Would could never surrender

his remarkable Treasure,

by any small measure,

his love ever fair.

 

And so did he hasten,

the dragons to chasten,

to strike down these beast

and find his own peace

no demon to spare.

 

Slashing in rage

the Dragons he slayed

with cuts true and deep,

‘til laid in great heap,

these monsters laid bare.

 

And in daylight anew

The Knight surely knew

‘twas his to dispel

these remnants of Hell

as he stood in the glare.

 

To face all the voices

of other men’s choices,

for the life he should live

and thus to forgive

and love life’s affair.

 

And to finally aspire

a life full of fire

and by bidding adieu

To all that was untrue

became full aware.

 

For it isn’t for me

or others you see,

To become a mere slave

to always behave,

as the dragons would care.

 

So pick up thy blade

hack true and evade

to break off the chain,

Kind men may have lain,

casting off all despair.

 

And cry victory,

that others might see

from thy New Heart beat,

the dragon’s defeat.

to live life in there.

 

So pickup thy blade;

with courage,

to fight.

It seems that compassion

It seems that compassion

Is well out of fashion

In what passes for discourse today.

 

For all of their screaming

There’s little redeeming

In what the politicos say.

 

No finding a solution;

Just adding confusion,

Civility has just gone astray.

 

Red state or blue,

What can we all do?

But laugh at their furious fray.

 

If only they’d listen

To another’s position

Perhaps we’d find the right way.

 

One hopes for some kindness

That might just remind us

To be nice as you play.

 

It could be I’m wrong

And should just go along

Stop hoping for a new day.

 

Though I’m aware

That someone might stare

Wondering if I am okay.

 

But I’ll let them wonder

While ideas they plunder

Not to relent in dismay

 

I’ll stay the course

Get of the high horse

Wishing they’d just go away.

 

What the tortoise saw

I wonder what the tortoise saw,

slowly in his pace;

And what the hare did miss

in their legend race.

Hot and Delicious

Hot and delicious
she greets with warm kisses,
the new morning dawns,
through all my great yawns.

Black beauty bring light
from cold and dark night
and quicken my heart
a new day to now start.

Renew this fogged mind
for in you I surely will find
All that life means
from fresh coffee beans!