Ode to Arcturus

Every year around this time
I change my "wishing" star.
There are only 4 of them,
held close, though they are far.

Light years beyond where I stand
and gaze at their magic light,
my wishing stars look down on me
and keep me safe throughout the night.

When Orion fades and Betelguese
have left my nighttime view,
Arcturus comes to guard the Bear
and bring me luck anew.

If you don't have a wishing star
then take a look and see,
just find the Dipper's handle
and share it's love with me.

The Eyes of an Owl

The eyes of an owl
Piercing and wise
Looking within you
Beyond your disguise

Theres no pretension
And never any guile
Within the piercing
Eyes of an owl.

They're green and they're sharp
They take all inside.
From the eyes of an owl
There's no place to hide.

Where do they come from?
These birds of prey
That swoop down and plunder
All things in their way.

With wings that can lift
And smiles that can scowl
Theres no place to hide
From the eyes of an owl.


September 16, 2021
Photo by Francois Bota

Transitions

Art is like the wheel; revolving.
As with life; it's all evolving.
Too much trouble, trying to solve
the mysteries that surround me.

And if for a moment, stuck in time,
my views were yours, and your views mine,
would we still search for the signs
of who we were meant to be?

So, continue on and on, we must
repeat mistakes, shake off the dust.
Then get back up, before we rust
as ships sunk in the sea.

With all the things dividing us
It may be hard to focus,
but, try remembering what once was
the world we'd hoped to see....