I

The silver and gold of our lives
is painted in the forest, my darling.
An empty purse
and no work
might push some to
panic.
But not we two who store our
silver and gold in our forests.

II

A brave blue backdrop
sets the stage.
Is this Act One
of winter
Or Act Three
of summer?
All that really matters is that
we have shown up for the
"cattle call" and expect to
get the part.

III

In Science Fiction people
sometimes step from
one dimension
into another
and find themselves back in time
or into the future.

Recently
when a friend set needle to vinyl for me,
an old 1972 Gordon Lightfoot song pried open
a hidden door to 30 long years ago.

My heart dissolved into tears
that had been kept locked away
behind the dam of forgetting.
In startled confusion
I faced my friend and saw the same hot tears.

A smile,
A nod,
Our bond, begun in grade school,
tightened.
We sat,
quietly watching memories
dance before us
to the music of Gordon Lightfoot.

IV

I understand
the gathering up of a soul.
I believe I am prayer.
I am fog
I am courage
I am pain.
My heart is rain,
crazy grey rain.
I understand
the gathering of a soul.

V

I grieve to watch sunflower petals fall
Yet see gold floating in the fog
where it drums back
the damp darkness of winter.

I escape panic chill
and nurture drops of warm honey sun.