ON THE PRAIRIE

On the lonesome prairie
he prayed to every star
and silent hilltop. All his words
were like winds across the grass,
or the giving of gifts
from night’s friendly hands.
He had lost so much
in his old life,
but fires still burned
in his bright mind,
and summer seemed
to be bursting inside him.
Holiness was everywhere,
he knew,
and all his sorrows
had helped his life
look up and out
where winds wandered
without end.

WHEN HE WAS SAD

He rode his horse
beside streams and across valleys
of flowers that seemed to flow forever.
His horse was a helpful friend,
following the stars and sunshine
as they showed the way.
It wouldn’t be forever,
he knew, just till the time
when something would awaken
like a windy morning.
It would just be until
tired and worn out sorrow
said hello to happiness
and then disappeared.
It would happen.
It always did.
So he let his horse
hold him high
among the breezes and
brightness that is life.

WHAT TO DO

He often wonders what to do,

whether to walk from one window to another,

or take up a book

that breaks open as soon as he touches it,

or bend his firm feelings

backwards and forwards for flexibility.

He knows the stars don’t struggle

in deciding whether to shine or not,

nor does his heart have trouble

choosing how to push the boats

of his blood inside his body.

Still, it’s not easy for him.

Should he help his car

cruise out to the beach,

or should he show himself

the sunlight on the lettuce

in his backyard garden?