Common Threads
Image by AnnaKika via Flickr
Woven
through our lives were common threads,
They were almost alike but were not the same,
Some strands
we followed that nowhere led,
As we chased
dreams of fortune and fame,
There were truths and lies we often said,
But life
gave each of us a different game,
Life’s fabrics
were woven and pieces shred,
When money
talked and called your name,
I have no regrets
for all that could have been,
I avoided
risks that would have brought me shame,
My love was not
squandered at slightest whim,
Our common threads
were not spun the same,
You flirted
with danger, went out on a limb,
Looked for
easy wealth that was lying around,
Tried to convince
yourself how life was grim,
When things
went awry and no money was found,
You wanted
to stay young, all fit and trim,
While you
waited for your ship to come in,
You hovered
at the edge of life’s rim,
Never
thinking about loss, just expecting to win,
Common
threads woven were not the same,
I discovered
that money couldn’t buy everything,
Your threads
spelled out a different name,
You got your
diamonds and had your fling,
I made choices
and my story became mine alone,
You were
convinced my decisions were rash,
But relationships
were important and I had grown,
I could not
compromise and turned down hard cold cash,
Threads were
woven into a pattern of my own,
You needed
more than I had to remain my friend,
All the love
we had shared and ever known,
Could not
keep us together at the end,
But you were woven into my life,
My heart still
dreamed and called your name,
Your absence
cut through me like a knife,
Common
threads woven were not the same,
I sometimes wondered how many threads,
Needed to be
woven to make you strong,
And how weak
would I be if I continued alone,
Our lives
turned out differently and oh, so wrong,
Life offered
you riches and you sold out,
Money was
more important than us being we,
At death you’ll
leave it all behind, I have no doubt,
As death
wraps us both, you’ll have the same threads as me.
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The Center of the Circle
Image via Wikipedia
The stories
in nature are never complete,
There are always lessons that will repeat,
From the
past, the present, and eons beyond,
Patterns
develop from plans once spawned,
From visions,
I’ve seen truths and facts,
Comparing
man and beast in gruesome acts,
Animals in
nature out of necessity must kill,
While mankind
often does it for the thrill,
Yet in my
dreams the circle’s center,
Becomes the
place where I enter,
And the
visions I see are all askew,
Gruesome,
deadly, but nothing new,
In my deep dark dreams I could see,
Killer
whales and their strategy,
Orcas, the
wolves of the sea,
Driving
their prey to its destiny,
Penguins or
seals, whatever the prey,
Onward pushed,
none allowed to stray,
Eager to
escape, but they stayed tight knit,
To the group
they had chosen to commit,
But the pod
of orcas tightened the noose,
Turning
their prey inward, not one turned loose,
The orcas
continuing their relentless chase,
Until the
matriarch gave the signal to end the race,
There was no
waiting, no time to pause,
Into the
center slashed hungry jaws,
A feeding
frenzy with victory won,
Patience
rewarded, the pod moved on,
(To be
Continued)
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The Most Efficient Path
As I take my walk through the woods,
I see untold beauty unfolding before me,
But I peer closer for I want to really see,
Nature’s royal form wrapped in fractal cloaks,
Natural occurrences as in the leaves of oaks,
Complex patterns rising from simple rules,
Fractal recurrences of nodules,
Using a mathematician’s way to explain,
How nature is not so complex but plain,
There is so much simplicity, yet elegant math,
Because nature follows the most efficient path,
Fibonacci numbers and the golden ratio have a say,
How beauty even exists in such a way,
With so many stimuli to overwhelm the mind,
I have to concentrate if the beautiful order I’ll find,
Branches, layers, spirals, are everywhere displayed,
Concrete examples that can be touched and weighed,
Pine cones with the Fibonacci spirals, feathers of owl,
Gathering specimens with camera as I continue to prowl,
Later to change the pictures into numerical models to test,
Analyze, and record patterns from this treasure chest,
Everything studied and written down as planned,
Like William Blake, “See the world in a grain of sand,”
Then once more I’ll be free to soar and see with eagle’s eye,
Chaos unchained and let my imagination fly.
