Within Me

What is you worth? Finance or fame?

Children or family? Health or a name?

– Of earthly treasure, humble and true,

Don’t value material, possesions kept few,

We seek what is seen, this popular theme,

To live without, the lesson of need,

Pick blades of grass, breathe mountain air,

Skip rocks in a pond, hike with no fear,

Watch clouds as they pass, keep a head high,

As the seasons pass on, look toward the sky

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Ocean Sense

PatriotsNow's Blog

What a sight, that lays before me,
The edge of the rock, an ocean story,

Collect my thoughts, close my eyes,
Hear the waves, of coming tide,

Scent of salt, upon my lips,
Warmth of sun, now touch my skin,

White caps crash, conforming land,
Now lovers walk, footprint to sand,

Majestic seagulls, sing their song,
Art of seaweed, felt by all,

Sounds appear, now so distant,
Eyes still shut, an ocean vision

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One Day

PatriotsNow's Blog

Falling is felt, a large and dark hole,
Wake up to shaking and loss of control,
Though still I’m secure, awake in my bed, it’s as if I’m still falling, reverberates in my head.

This feeling it comes, it goes as it please, not sure of alertness, conscious or dreams, is this just a mark, a sign of duress, or is life simply slipping, toward my moments last breath.

One day will I not, come awake from the depth, One day will I not, tumble-down like the rest, For I know the feeling of falling most told, The spirit embodied, to have and behold.

7-4-12

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“1820”

Frost on my doorstep,
Winter is near,
Trees move with purpose,
Sound never clear,

Picturesque scene
Left us with fall,
Colors of autumn,
Forgotten by all,

Days become short,
Candlelight dinner
Fireplace warmth,
Scent of fresh timber,

Body is wary,
Covered in filth,
Rest in the tub,
The farm is now still,

Tuck children in place,
Whisper to sleep
All dream of Christmas,
What presents will be,

A humble mans life,
The year 1820,
Generations of family,
Lay here before me,

In tradition of spirit,
I think of your journey,
Each wall that I pass,
Reliving your story,

If only to travel,
Back to the day,
To show you the pictures,
Of what you have made,

I wonder if ever,
Imagined for moments,
The house that was built,
By your hands would be open,

Open to family,
Filled with such life,
Almost 200 years,
Your homestead survives

Life’s Inheritance

The seed tomorrow, what was given?
Our aftermath, has yet been written-

Choices now, with weight of gods,
Decisions made, the haze of fog,

If no remembrance, without an after,
Life and living, what really matters?

Soul is sold, no inclination,
Depths of mercy, no limitations,

A broken path, we now set sail,
Values lost, the sea revealed.

Abandoned Path

My heart cannot bleed,
Nor speak of a truth,

Lungs fail to breathe,
Eternal sleep now renewed,

Emotion is absent,
Left to a past,
Light steady brightens,
This hall to repass,

This moment you realize,
What might be a last,

Touch from a loved one,
The notion to laugh,

Trepidation turns stare,
Which path do I choose,

One road seeming peaceful,
The other abused,

My journey not fruitful,
Each day lived a struggle,

Only one path is chosen,
Toward left a rebuttal,

With body and mind,
steady drawn to the right,

Appearance of ease,
Toward harmony’s light,

Agita stricken,
Who am I to decide,

Eyelids now shut,
All thoughts are benign,

Soft gentle breeze,
Calmly felt on my skin,

Eyes now wide open,
I’ve awakened again