Sister
         There's
                     A
                      Twister
                                   Heading
                                                 Our
                                                       Way
                                               Avoid
                                               I
                                      Must
                               This
                        Gust
                    Of
            Dust
    Let's
Be
   On
       Our
             Way

The kaleidoscope
has been shaken

The pieces are
in flux

Fear and ignorance
divide

Balance is the power
love and truth
unite.

"If a big bang occurs and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?"

SPEAK TO ME IN THE VOICES OF BIRDS

all the statues
start to talk
all at once

in the voices of various birds
I watch as their thoughts
take to the skies

now they fall silent
or speak only
in raindrops dripping from foliage

the rain puts
tears in their eyes
or gives the ends

of their
cracked noses
a snotty cold

a few heads
lie scattered
at their marbled feet

eyes closed
with lichen
lips sealed with green

they say nothing
only watch
the silence deepen

an earwig
crawls across
an eye

a passing guide
with a flock
of tourists

blah blah blahs
about the lives and lies
the statues once lived

and of the what
and who
they were

the statues
looked bored
having heard it all before

even in
Hungarian  
and Bulgarian

"Speak to me again...  
" I plead
"...in the language of birds!"

but all
their thoughts
have flown away

Climbing up the mountain
The summit to behold
No holding to this moment
Soul will not be sold

Decending has it's lessons
The journey must be made

Mind must be free
Never made a slave

Ground level is for pondering
Many holes to walk around

Hold on to something half forgotten
Strong will must be found

One day on the horizon
A mountain can be seen

A calling to the summit, and everything
In-between.

Started with toys
They ment so much to me
Through the shop window
Wonderful things to see.

Then one day
I gave them all away.

Love of music
What a pleasant way to be,
Vinyl, cassette, cd's
Ment everything to me.

Then one day
I gave them all away.

Now no trinkets, but eyes see clear and far
Mind free to fly on the day I gave it all away.

Forgetting and remembering
What's that song we used to sing?

When we talk old friend
The missing bits are made a mend.