Flickering Prayers


The Vigil lamp’s flames

Mirror the rising sun

Flickering prayers

For a day begun


Like Nuns

Quail Running

Like Nuns in their Habits

The Quail run across the opening

As fast as their legs will take them

Back into the Monastery of the trees


The Moon

The Moon

I loved you

and for a moment

I was reflected

within your eyes

like the stars

within the sea.

Silent, separate,

my heart,

like the moon

stood sentinel


to the directions

of your tides

My love,

like a full moon,


your way

through your

darkest hours.

While I,

living on the lip

of loves’ insanity,

drank your tears

and suffered your pain.

And in the end,

Oh… unrequited love,

your needs met

the sun arose

and I, like the moon,

was banished

with the dawn.


Ode to My Mother Dying Young

Iva Lake 1939

What soft, sweet, heart does loneliness bring?
Yellowed valentines and faded blue butterflies pressed between pages.

Memories of brass doorknobs touched, trying to touch, her presence.
Beds sheet-less, with springs poking, no hugs or kisses, goodnight again.

How long ago yet always present, those dim filled days when colors faded
everything turning gray.

How soft and sweet, the wing of death and the consciousness it brings.
What loneliness… in lovingness… the soft, sweet, heart does sing.