Monday, April 18, 2005

Between This and That

This twirling finger of mine
dancing on the wind outside
my freeway motor:fa-(çade
a play to the source of power
where calculus spells amaze.

While finger fantasy is pure fun
some actually say they fly when
they fall, free from a plane, a rock
flies then just as much, likely as not.
The difference, if sought, is grace.

© 4/16/2005, RJDuberg

Yours, Friend

 Yours, Friend

I go where my friends are
not often alone to join the fray.
I have more than one circleas such, to enjoy throughout 
the day. The difference to running
are limits to learning, and quicker age.

In a pause of contemplation
the trade off seems extreme.
My self reckons purity alone,
time stands still in my attention
Everything I sense shifts from points
to wave patterns that span frequency

My vision appears in a gaze
dazzled by a smile, 
you send me.

Can’t, won’t, couldn’t know
how to deny myself that friend.
I break free of myself for love
finding freedom itself beautified
woven greatly to enrich this life.
With gratitude I am yours, friend.


© 4/9/2005, RJDuberg
© 4/9/2005, RJDuberg
© 4/9/2005, RJDuberg