As far as East is from the West,
and near to worst as to the best,
I have wandered lonely as a cloud
as we travel from some swaddle to the shroud.
Once we drove a stake in the ground and called it home;
now this morning wakes me here as sun is shone.
Situated now on continental sunrise heights
while recalling vivid island sunset sights,
and noticing here our stark and spindly leaves, these trees,
I recollect the wide and warm of ocean breeze.
Experience goes as far as mountains are from sand,
then circles back around to water, air and land.
Sometimes life is hard, you know;
at other times it’s soft as autumn leaves make show.
As days turn dark,
so light doth continually toss out some spark
of hope or happiness or flexibility
that is yet assailed by despair or dearth or rigidity.
Experience comes as vividly as rising sun;
then memory renders it precious when day is done.
Doors of perception
open into windows of reflection
as present slips into the past
and future finds a fleeting foothold fast.
We amble here and there and everywhere;
we ramble now and then without care.
When reality and reflection mingle in the sands of time
imagination splurges into rhythm, sometimes in rhyme
when myself is beached upon the rock of time,
and our family finds itself with God and universe in line.