If I were Home …

If I were home
And could stand again
In the blossoming
dawn of Hope,
It would fill my soul
With old-time calm
And let me once more
Hear the call
Of my full-voiced heart.
Then my dreams would lift
Away the snow
And let my life
Again begin
To grow.

Like Gold Dust on the sea

Like Gold Dust on the sea
Or darkling voices in the rain
The pulse of a dream
Echoes its rhythmic refrain
In the morning hour.
And every wildwood,
Every scattered spirit-bloom
Whose voice was silent,
Hum with leaves in untrodden ways.
And lyrics from shadows
Who seldom shine
Unwrap the distance from sober grays
And write in pools of lucent gloom
The response to the night’s yielding strain:
An immortal dream glimmering
Like a mirrored eternity of sky
In the spirit-hollows
Of your slowly waking mind.

When your words are voiceless

When your words are voiceless
And your soul is alone.
When all your dreams
Have long ago flown.
Hope is the sunrise
Tied to the earth
With strings of twilight
Is the day being birthed.

For the breath of life
Is not to find, but to seek
In Woodways, in mornings,
What you release
You will keep.

Earth’s music spills secrets
To those who can sing
Their soul-song, their heart-tune
And let it fly with the wind
To frost-crest the night
Or to bring about Spring.

The search is the hope
And dreams are the sea
Sailing in wind-still,
Not to find, but to seek.

Hope is a childhood’s whisper

Can you hear the whispers
of childhood dreams and days?
Remembering those threadbare thrills
And the hopes of yesterdays?
When the winter is around you
And it clutches upon your heart
Find comfort in those sweet old ways,
Like a pilgrim to dreamers’ trysting-place.
Where your soul can dance beyond the harbor bar
To where the untroubled, shining waters are
And you can, in resurrection’s bashful glory,
Start again on your life’s untold story.

Amidst the grass and broken leaves

Amidst the grass and broken leaves
A brighter thought will grow
Bravely and audaciously
It will rise, even through the snow,
And take us to another place
Where dreams are precious gold
To settle roots and start to bloom
From the soil we call the soul.