yesterday

September 21, 2014 by Rick Stassi you

Paul Gauguin

absent in this moment
for tomorrow is borrowing me
for a brief visit
to live out
a contrived dream sequence
where current reality
is replaced by a false
insecurity – or security
and I willingly go
because the current moment wasn’t
all that interesting anyway…

I find as
these lapses
into tomorrow
build upon one other
so that a minute
becomes the hour that
keeps me up so very late
at night when
the entanglement between
sleep and worry
battle fiercely
in fighting fields
created simply by
my inability to
stay present in this moment…

so focus,
I must, on this time
that shall fly away ever so fast
and take me now into tomorrow
which is unlike anything I
ever dreamed or worried about,
yesterday

after all

September 14, 2014 by Rick Stassi you

Birger Sandzén

In a flowing brook lined with stones,
A stream of water gently roams.
Nourishing the faded and listless to life,
Opposing gray with soft light rife.

Like an adagio’s gentle melodic warming,
Preceding allegro’s triumphant swarming.
The gentleness upon eager ears,
The preponderance of growing tears.

But where, O Love, do you wish me to be?
Set upon velvet moss, on greener lea?
I sense your heart envelops mine,
A crimson thread joins in one straight line.

And here near cool water which to our heart warms
We embrace each other in loving arms
Your feet I wash in servant’s call,
Hope forever, after all.

legacy

September 9, 2014 by Rick Stassi you

gustave caillebotte

And so, fields of green.
New breath of life
Seeking spring rains
Which pleasantly placate
The thirst
Of all things.

And so, fields of gold.
O, the time of our stand
Passing quickly, steadily…
Now balmy days of reflection:
Satisfied and flourishing,
Certain and abounding

And so, fields of gray.
Joyful rest in shortened days
Blanketed with a colorful covering
Of leaves from trees.
Wiser now and older, patient.
Seeds sown and heart so very content.

And so, fields of bleakness.
Solemn depth of wintry sleep.
No sorrow in God’s arms, though,
Knowing with a true heart
That what we have lived
Will continue in season next.

hopeful moon

September 3, 2014 by Rick Stassi you

Paul Cezanne

The brevity of a moment
Lost on a sigh.
One exhale relieving
A thought wound tight
In an ever-resistant mind
Refusing to give in,
But rather to hold on to what
Keeps us awake at night.

The frail moon is riding a
Determined orbital path,
Watching with compassioned concern
Trains of thought
Rising from many who sleep.
Just as mist rises from the moor,
The earth too exhales a sigh.
It is release: calming, soothing…

All as if a dream, this breath joined by
A tear meandering down a cheek.
Why is rising mist lighter than air,
Yet a sorrowful burden outweighs
Gravity’s pull?
Ever-bearing vertical pressure
On a shoulder meant for a moistened face.

“Lean on me”, cries the Dawn
To the Moon whose light is
No match for God’s piercing eyes…
Yet he is watchful and tries
So very hard to interrupt sleepless angst
And keep night’s dream waxing
As harvest time comes
And the Seed’s fruitful
Sacrifice surely delivers
A hopeful soul to eternity.