Thanks

Thank you for the friends I meet,

also for the foods we eat,

every liquid drop, each seed,

and thank you for the love I need.

Thank you for our lovely beach,

the ocean so within our reach.

Even though it’s not the norm,

I appreciate the occasional storm.

I’m thankful that it comes to mind 

to smile a lot, and to be kind.

It’s great to see, with honest clarity,

I care enough for flawless charity,

and I’m reminded every day

I’m grateful that I’ve learned to pray,

since it’s the perfect place to start,

to ease my soul, to warm my heart.

Thank you for my new found health,

what I now know as my true wealth.

Thank you for the clean, fresh air,

and sun and laughter, quite the pair.

Thanks also for my art, my books,

our older cats, their goofy looks,

tee shirts, sweat pants, my faith too,

and nothing’s better than our zoo.

Thank you for my meditations,

those middle of the day vacations.

Thank you for our lovely home,

and each and every published poem.

Mostly, thanks for my awesome wife,

the greatest part of a grateful life.

Middle

Not Bottom, Nor Middle,

but serene top shelf,

mostly calm, sometimes placid,

in high-grade mental health.

So there’s my current total, 

a pretty decent score,

I like it a lot, I really do.

Please, sir, may I have more?

No alcohol crossed my lips,

and I stayed away from chips,

eating a lot of veggie food,

which helped elevate my mood.

Daytime protocols I kept,

as more peacefully I slept.

Lunched with friends, a nice repast,

It really was a blast.

Thought of my friend in a monastery,

which left me feeling very

happy, with aplomb,

this lifestyle, it’s the bomb.

Name Calling

So many names, titles, appellations, epithets, designations, descriptions, 

pseudonyms, some by choice, others by chance, a couple memorable, a few a bit annoying. The certificate says it’s Daniel, father went with Dan, later Daniel Boone, while mother preferred Danny. Tough name to pronounce, so some young friends liked Danny P, others stuck with Pieface or Greek. Aging, it became mister, then Sergeant, hero, counselor, boss. Next in line, highest in import, Honey. Now it’s mostly Daniel, sometimes Ely the Eel, but the all-time favorite is Dionysios, after a grandfather never met. Not the Roman god of wine, Dionysus. My drink was ouzo.

The Joy of Peace

Life is wild, 

wacky, 

wonderful,

in process, 

totally, 

completely.

Turn toward others,

live with an open heart.

Peace begins with love.

Slide on into love.

Ease on into joy.

Less stressed, 

more blessed.

Personal Reflections

I envision an afterlife 

with cats and birds and dogs, 

and of course, my soul mate

and, oh yes, with comfortable clothes.

I usually picture nothing

as a good thing to achieve.

I do, however, believe in

a source, a power, an omnipresence,

which some call God, others Spirit.

Doesn’t matter what you call it.

It’s here, there and everywhere,

working through me.

I mean, can one think that

we are merely accidents?

I don’t remember exactly when or if

I found this power.

I just know that It found me.

I grew up with It.

I was surrounded by It.

It just looked like something else,

perhaps like lakes and trees,

or several small town taverns.

I am at ease not knowing,

feel no need to prove it.

I simply enjoy reflecting on It.

Open Eyes

Embracing uncertainty, one might

see the world more clearly,

achieve a growing insight,

hold the view more dearly.

Opening one’s heart

opens the ears, the eyes as well,

toward happiness it’s a calm start,

toward peace, perhaps, but who can tell?

The truth always remains 

even in a world of lies.

Because the bulb is broken,

does it mean the power dies?

One must use their heart,

with the truth mostly unseen.

One must surrender the drama,

through trust come completely clean.

Something good is about

to happen, open to it and see.

It won’t come loudly, with a shout,

it will simply, suddenly, be.

So, out your doubt,

dissolve it, send it packing.

Seek your healing thought,

see there’s nothing lacking.

Be calm, breathe and realize 

that this much is certainly true,

with self-love and open eyes,

you’ve done all that you can do.

The Zoomies

I look into the cat’s eyes

and he tells me there’s a storm coming.

Not the purple-black skies of

Sedona monsoons,

more the unleashed whirlwinds

of Kansas and Oklahoma.

Joey is his name,

possession is his game.

An only child for so long,

lived in microclimates of his own,

a couple of cages in 

a couple of shelters,

not having to live with

the updrafts and downdrafts 

of another pet.

But he’s here now,

cuddly with the humans,

in his forever home.

At first, not so cuddly

with Max, another tuxedo,

usually warm but sometimes 

given to a cold front,

sometimes a cyclone.

They’re fine now,

waited each  other out,

but their eyes tell me,

always just before my bedtime,

there’s a storm coming,

it’s nearly time for the zoomies.

Will it be a gale,

or is an haboob on the horizon?

Stay tuned.