O CHRISTMAS TREE

IN THIS I CAN FIND SOLACE

As sunset burns pink and red and orange

across a floating sky of sheepish clouds,

It heralds the darkness of the night itself.

The brilliance of the day has given me a joy of being

that slips away now with the setting sun.

Night comes and dimness falls upon the spirit.

Yet for a moment in that sunset,

the light becomes pure and magenta, so lovely.

It seems testimony enough that the day had value.

The Night gives birth to the blues.

The Night reminds us that all is changing,

How useless it seems to mourn this passing.

The bloom of youth fades.

The boundless energy of childhood play

becomes productive adult work.

So it is with autumn.

As the days grow shorter,

the winds blow colder.

The brilliant light of summer fades

and kindles the flames of burning colors

in the very leaves of time.

I cannot help but be struck by its beauty.

I leave until tomorrow that which is yet undone.

I gladly leave the planting to the Spring.

For Winter is now coming fast,

And Winter wants to kill us.

If Winter cannot kill us, it will slow us down.

We take the thrift of our days

And spend it getting through the night …

Getting through the Winter.

They are much the same, the Night and the Winter.

That same natural pattern of building and destruction

Is the theme of both.

It comes together in the Fall.

It comes together before the Night

To see it, I have only to look.

There is a balance in those autumn days.

There is a signal in those twilight moments.

Forget about the past and let the future be.

Let the now be incredible and lovely,

A laughing child is a bell to an undistracted mind,

I hear the music. I hear the bell. I feel the balance.

Tomorrow will carry joy for some and grief for others.

I know that well. The Winter will take us into Spring.

It is forever that way. In this I can find solace.

 

Photos by the author

October 1, 2015

BITTERSWEET

 

by Kenneth Harper Finton

 Maybe I am jaded now
 or just too old to cry.
 All the tears I’ve shed before
 Have left my eyes quite dry.

Friends have come and friends have gone, 

how bittersweet is nature.

Work is really never done,

wars are really never won, 

lives are always left undone,

success is never measured.

Blisters used to pain my hands
’til callouses replaced them.
 Caring always filled my days,
 ’til lack of it displaced it.

Friends have come and friends have gone, 

how bittersweet is nature.

Work is really never done,

wars are really never won, 

lives are always left undone,

success is never measured.

Living always pleasured me
 and sorrow seldom ailed me,
 but Father Time has dried me out
 and left no room for wailing.

Friends have come and friends have gone, 

how bittersweet is nature.

Work is really never done,

wars are really never won, 

lives are always left undone,

success is never measured.

While I’m Alive

LOVE

  

         Love is accepting another as a part of oneself. 

Love is the inclusion of the other 

into the very fabric of everyday life.  

Love unites and draws together 

like iron fragments to the magnetic field. 

In human terms, love expands 

the isolated and alone self 

to include beings and objects 

from outside the self

Love is felt not just for living things, 

but for actions and methods of performing actions. 

The world is built on attraction and love, 

caring and nurturing. 

The desire and urge to be more 

than we are alone 

is the driving force 

of evolutionary progress.

Love is seen everywhere in the natural world. 

Adults pair and care for their mates and their young.  

Love is evident throughout nature.  

It is seen in the bonding that forms the very chemicals of life.

Love may be the primary reason for existence itself, 

as primal awareness, discovered the other outside itself, 

reflected upon it,

 accepted it within itself, 
and gave birth to an entire universe. 

Hallelujah Spaghetti

NAPKIN VERSES

Ffrom the book "Labors of Love" - 
by Kenneeth Harper Finton 

 http://www.kennethharperfinton.com/labors-of-love.html

Napkin Verse

How many poems 

in how many stops

have been written on

napkins in coffee shops.

While others make lists

of the things they must do,

I sip on my coffee

and write like a fool.

Not Every Love

Not every thought I think 

is pure.

Not every move I make 

is sure.

Not every song I write 

can flow.

Not every love I make 

can grow.

 Silent Seeds

When hurt is a blanket of ice

smothering molten flames,

and the holy fire within

turns ashen dreams,

the silent seeds remain 

where miracles are born,

awaiting but new rains

for love to bloom again.

Cosmic Love

Does cosmic love

seek concrete form

in human lovers?

Is this why some 

feel dead

without another?

Yesterday 

Yesterday was lonely 

and tomorrow’s never won.

We wake to find the present

is all that ever comes.

Yesterday’s decisions 

made the path we take today, 

but  yesterday is oh so far,

                two billion miles away.

Society

Do you know

what society is?

It is a cloudy mirror

where one views oneself

in different forms.

    

Wings of Wax

I soared so high on wings of wax,
but not gone high enough to crash.
It’s time for me to make new plans
so flying can be safe again.

              

Where Magic Grows

Where magic grows,

love goes.

Where laughter spills,

love will.

Where happy dwells,

all’s well.

The Nip

There’s magic in this bottle.
I think I’ll take a nip
and pause between my many cares
as through this life I slip.

Daffodils

I lost my  money, spun my wheels,

I wandered lonely city fields.

Although I looked with eyes of steel,

I did not find my daffodils.

Electronic Love

Love is orbiting freely
around those 
illumined souls

that light one’s path