More Faith than Flesh



I toss my troubles

Down the wishing well,

Watch them until they melt into the inky black,

Bid them farewell, if only for the night,

And let myself wander the alpine forests of my youth,

Where the wax seal of time

Is still warm from the pouring,

And the swaying, golden fields of life

Have only just begun to be harvested,

Where the air is redolent with the heady scent of loam

Mixed with distant traces of sea foam;

And if a tree falls in this forest,

It won’t make a sound,

So unburdened am I

That I am more faith than flesh.


Long I Stood on that Mount




Long I stood on that mount,

And sang mournful poetry

That spoke of the passing of twilight

Into deep, forest-dark night,

The rise and fall of summer

To autumn,

The silent marching of the years

Over the edge of eternity.





There is life.


Beyond the starkness of barren trees,

Past the fallen leaves,

Just South of here,

There is life.


“Find me,”

It whispers in a silken voice,

A breathy gust of wind

Against the ear of the weary traveler.


“Seek me where the river meets her mate,

Where the autumnal trees burst back into riotous color,

Up past the mountains, where you shall find me

Worshipping at the altar of wanderer,

Hoping to be sought,

Praying to be found.”


And there She will be,

Looking like an angel,

Fallen to her knees –

“There,” you shall say,

“Is Life.”




At the height of summer,

It’s easy to forget

That the sun also rises

On the day after you fail to,

That time still passes,

That you cannot stay forever this young,

That the stars still change

With the rotation of the Earth,

And that you still do not revolve with them.

That the moment ends,

And never comes again.




Autumn arrived

Much in the same way it always does,

With a blustering gust of wind

And a hint of chill in the air.


It came for me

While I was asleep,

The turning of the Earth

And the motions of the Heavens

Colluding to bring about the fall

Of all those brittle, bright-colored leaves

From their summertime stations.


Fall entered stage-right, and I?

I stood, enraptured, as She came closer,

Caught utterly unawares by her presence,

Not realizing that summer had gone

Until it was already far too late

To mourn its passing.