The power of the drive is interest. A formidable presence. Creating an iron path. Bold expressions. The energy of engines. The length without loss. Full with release. Disproving disbelief. Strength with compassion. Concern and respect. Honor with honor. Listening without speaking. Holding not hiding. A hand without greed. A comment without wounding. Quiet not arrogant. … More HOME
Rugged storms, the winds of change, lift our moorings from the planting inside of us. We resist by setting into the winds, standing firm, but still we stumble under the pressing weight, falling into and apart from our self. We like to think we are soldiers, resisting the enemy, fighting back with advancing lines. But … More ADVANCING LINES
My blood is dirt. Open crushed ground of footprints. Songs filter through ages of gravel, into stories, forming well worn paths. Ancient voices. Father’s I never knew. Messages on stone; the year of coming and then the last. Brothers, sisters, the images continue beyond the stone, covered below in dark and dust. … More SOMEPLACE
It was a day without sun. A full thickness of gun metal clouds separated fallowed fields from heaven. In longtime past, the ground was harvest strong; abundant colors of growth, the standard of success. Watered words promised planting. The seeds are long forgotten and folded away. The weather changes out. Sometimes late, never early. Next … More NEXT YEAR
The newspaper drapes a lifeless shape over the arm of a couch, like fallen leaves of yesterday; past shadows of news and names. Lines of cars pass by below. The street yawns of morning. The aroma of coffee walks to the bedroom where last nights clothes lay asleep on the floor. The overhead piping creaks. … More I WISH
Dawn drops the hammer on the last intersection of day. A star curtain drapes itself over a thin blue canopy. Tasteful air rushes in to become the last act. Stories told grow tall with unnatural lies, encouraging events that didn’t happen until reality calls us out from the bench, waiting to see if we melt … More REALITY STRIKES
Breathing into a magnolia sweet evening a cello weeps from an apartment; late persistent summer clouds flatten under an orange-blue horizon. The air divides as the sound walks over tired curtains and past yellow chipped paint, descending to an alley absent of life, canvassing garbage cans and locked back doors. A hallway fills with music … More CALM WATERS
Charcoal thoughts spill across river deep eyes. The flow of strong vision grasps at the promise of angels with empty pockets. Whispers lift into voices, like ribbons trailing behind youthful smiles and hope abounding. A song rises into a chorus of winds, spreading out like well worn paths. Time releases the face of change. The … More CHANGING
It was the last days of warm sand. Afternoon shadows lay long and slender. The sun slipped away a little earlier and the clouds appeared thinner from where I stood. Season change is a transition of the soul, a sacrifice without choice; the end of one, the beginning of another. A rightly authority turns … More TRANSITION
Jazz rained down in rivers catching out strong soul and soft hands rising to the call of music prayers among blind angels who fail on color and possess great mercy scattering dark thoughts, lost eyes , and roads leading from home and shoes speaking miles and dirty hands breathing out the land with labor work … More AMEN
Roger Singer 