That burst of joy

That burst of joy
when the line you cast
and the hook you baited
bear fruit
despite your tethered boat,
your disinterested companion,
and the damp chill
that penetrates
so deep
so deep

Heart like a ferry

It's late.
The ferry has dropped
her last load for the evening
and awaits final inspection,
glowing,
empty in the dark.

I feel her windows
echo deep within;
some light declares
that joy once occupied this boat
and surely will return,
rumbling through dawn
to fill again and empty,
then fill again.

A Poet on his Pilings

Gray day, and the heron waits,

a poet, patient on his pilings,

for inspiration to strike:

just the glimmering possibility of a fish,

and he/imagination will take flight

to soar, then dive, and skewer;

and -- with luck -- emerge, triumphant

with some juicy food for thought...

Sound Wave

Foghorns sound,

and echoing the blast

the masts increase in size,

then fade to nothing...

Finding Balance

Each human,
such a mass of contradictions:
that drive to action,
the attraction of noise,
the intensity of passion --
and yet,
the longing for stillness,
quiet,
and peace.

The tension between those opposites
pulls us ever forward
into light.

Summer's Eve

On a lazy summer evening,
we stroll along the docks after dinner,
watching as the boats glide in to rest,
The city glowing softly in the setting sun.
Life could stop here --
another peaceful moment,
poised on the brink of change --
but no, the clock ticks on,
and so, too, we must move along
with miles to go
and things to do
before dark settles in...

Consider that internal fence:
the aging boards
which separate us
from the paradise within.
Who built them?
Was it you?
And if it is so aged
and so low,
what holds us back
when we long to tear it down?
Is there some ladder
we can climb
to get a better view
of the glories that await
on the other side?