It begins with
a primal scream
because we haven’t
yet heard the joke.

We lurch into life,
blinking, startled. We
didn’t know it was a
womb until we left it.

We take a look around and
whistle, watch the sparrows
as they fly by, wonder if
there’s a plot to this story.

Whatever we discover, Nature
thought of it first. Mother
Nature, we call her, even as
we make her our battered wife.

The sun teaches us to waltz
and rumba, lights our terrors,
massages us with heat. It
does not demand sacrifice.

The moon guards our
orbit, plays with tides,
reflects its searchlight
on this spinning planet.

The stars, scattered like
rice at a wedding, hang out
in the sky and wonder what
all the fuss is about.

The bear nuzzling for honey,
the snow-specked wolf, the wary
cat, find each other curious;
only humans question reality.

Souls harbor demons, shadows
that whisper and haunt our
blood. The way to overcome
a fear is to embrace it.

Risk is natural, stability
isn’t. The search for sanctuary
takes us past red lights, smiling
strangers, loves we don’t understand.

Our passions are who we
are, the dreams our dreams
dream of, the butterfly
of our crawling caterpillar.Life is a rough draft,
never ready for itself.
The only style that makes
any sense is celebration.

Symmetry is not harmony.
Parallel bars were meant
to be uneven. To live is
to constantly reconsider.

Give and take. Joined,
harmonious unison;
separate, just two
four-letter words.

The mind can make an apple
of a desert, turn a garden
into a favorite novel.
Perspective is everything.

The magician asked God
how to levitate without
trickery. “Don’t come
down,” said God.

It’s all natural magic:
a baseball game, an
act of love, the odd
inexplicable mystery.

One man’s oatmeal is
another woman’s science-
fiction. We are mostly
water, but partly irony.

If we can speak, we can
sing. If we can move,
we can dance. We are the
answer to our prayers.

We choose our paths, seek
shelter from our storms.
But only within ourselves
will we find sanctuary.