*
there are those of us
who feel life’s Beauty
so Deeply
it is painful
*
and Pain so completely
there is Beauty
in the Depth
of Feeling
*
drives some to Madness
some to a Life
lived in Fear
others
to Breathe
a Generosity of Heart
come what may
*
Photograph by Nick Zungoli
*
by expanding
Horizons
we See more
*
perceive
the weft and warp
behind the weave
Motives
behind Actions
*
by seeing more
we Imagine more
Symbolic Beings That We Are
understand the Value
of our choices
rather than feeling subjected
to the decisions
of others
*
By Expanding Our Horizons
we inevitably test our Faith
Everyday
a multiplication of options
was it right? was it not?
*
makes some of us Cower
others Soar
*
The Price of Stealing Fire
*
Art Work By Yaron Rosner
To My Beloved
and the choice I make in you
for the sake of giving
you something
of the written me
not to let another year
go by without a word,
or many words
(whatever it takes)
tell you what you
already know
Something other than
the three words I do
intermittently utter
rather, something of the Substance
such the marrow
of a bone, its Wealth
of nutrients
fear of not expressing
the depth I feel
makes me stumble
as it is in good faith
I bring you this Me of mine
choose you every morning
as my traveling partner
in and out of fog
and broad daylight
through the thin Stench
of my mind’s gaseous compost
and the thick Scent of my heart’s
lemon blossoms, such a veil
enveloping us as the heat
of day does break by water
clapping at our presence
Through the torture and rewards
of my Spirit’s Wanderings
a lost ghost,
at best a heartfelt warrior
For this and all
that is more
I hold your hand
move forward
through the wake and sleep
of our journey together.
*
25 years
Yaron Rosner
You Say
you don’t belong
here anymore
*
weary of a world
changing so fast
your Spirit
flails
in the loneliness
of your words
*
I pause
*
the Origin of my life,
I never imagined
you Elsewhere
than part of it
Now
unwelcome
and inevitable
the notion of your absence
prods me
*
I see
a Dimming
momentary
for the planet
but Permanent in
my chambers,
the ones built
with Your Blood
*
My mother, Marilyn Cashman Nahas is 83
Very lucky to still have her in my life.
*
Art Work by Yaron Rosner
*
Moving from shoal
to shoal, he disappears
close to the creek
reappears around the sharp rocks
the swimmer
proceeds in Silence
diligent, focused
the swimmer pursues a goal,
looking peeking, assessing,
moving on wordlessly
leaving no trace, no sign
as the sea slowly heaves
in and away,
Breath of a patient Mother
Soundless
the Swimmer
advances along the edgy
coast, showing no effort
as if gliding through oil
unaware, he perseveres
bobbing, peering, bobbing
*
Absorbing the tenacity
I see a Force
stronger
than the Man Himself
Dictating his will to live
Stay Alive
come what may
Barbed Wire
desperate hunger
there for him
always
*
where is this place
we look for
this place we seek
Touch
as we Grapple
with meaning
Purpose
where?
where the place of belonging
the Refuge
that allows words
to stand Still
wait for their resonance
*
One Heart
*
the sound of many hearts
*
Photograph By Nick Zungoli
Ancient like Resin
Revealing itself with a Glimmer
Then Fading
into the empty
Darkness of Silence
a matter of revelation
of Readiness, Timing
No cause, no effect
Rather Seizing
The promise of a Moment
like a hand lazily
waiting in the water
for the yielding Fish
the one who says:
“Take me, take me Now”
Photograph by Nick Zungoli
It Is
in the unlikely Shadows
of Ambiguity
Your Rest is found
*
After the Struggle
That Is;
*
after kicking and screaming
in the Face of uncertainty’s
formless Fog
Exhaustion creeps, loosens,
eases the Armor
allows it to Shift
slip, slide, Until
Thrown Aside
a Naked and hesitant Rise ensues
*
there being nothing
to Fight, there is Nothing
to lose
*
the fog drapes
in Greys
comforting the bewildered
heart
mindful that certainty
is not a goal
but a fleeting outcome
if at all
*
the goal would be
to proceed here,
now,
in the moment
*
Photograph by Nick Zungoli
You Returned
from the Dead,
as did Lazarus,
the continuation
into your New Life
a Resurgence
from Deepest Darkness
*
You carry Now
profound insight
into Our Humanity,
as revealed by the modulated
Spring in your Step
the Smile,
the ardent generosity
and more importantly
the Absence of Sadness
*
Art Work by Yaron Rosner
To My Uncle Ty
*
To D.C
For every opportunity
we Seize
to meet Again
there is an added line
another Rivulet of Time
along the mouth or eye
and of course the Expanding gray
thinning the dark depth
of your hair
Yet beyond the references
of Time, you are forever youthful
lithe and light footed
as years pass you Hover,
unseen, above ground
rising just a tad
with every meeting
As I watch you
I see Myself
the rivulets, the Time
the Thinning Darkness
only I, I tread this earth heavily
with each year my imprint
becomes more defined
further encrusted with Dirt
as if I were to become
more of this Matter
as you become
more of this Ether
*
Art Work By Yaron Rosner