he sits, sipping his tea on a porch before meadows and mountains familiar to his voice and supplications, under stars and bright sun, considering dreams, some real some reminders of a good life with songs brightly sung and poetry, the puzzle of words, that some plainly grasp, but for a few, the message remains deep … More CLEARLY
walks the perimeter of fire, beginning the journey or voyage as wide prairie thoughts walk in without obstruction, self inventing today’s challenge, stirring within a ballad of an open field as you set out until the habit of a faithful evening of stars and moon encourage our rest
the lost know how to be found they are the dust of failures and the chance for success they court the sun worship the moon and question the shadow following behind they hum an unfamiliar song remembering parts and the parts offered up for another try at something, anything
silent wishes inside whispers, unopened presents frosting smiles, festive hats pointing to heaven, where eyes reflect the soul as a chorus of support welcomes all into the center where voices entertain with gifts in story
gypsy notes a vagabond song refreshing, like spring rain, the fragrance rising from warm roads a moment alive sounds from angels a familiar language fluid and flowing a joyful expression breaking within the air circling like mighty winds striking solidly a message completed
it was at the edge of horizons where eyes welcome a steady line of waves touching the senses, dripping from clouds hiding in shadows evenings and nights and familiar songs the years are unstoppable, a collection words, drifting in breezes but not forgotten
the house was a fire of voices a child on the front porch sang a song about water and boats floor boards language inner travel from room to room burnt evening skies brushed the house with setting shadows as night breathes out a deep sigh of quiet
an image within a song showing up before you arrive appearing bigger in the eyes of yourself and where you are on a front porch as a door opens like the words you push in the swing at days end and a front light forming a circle where dew and toys share space … More CLIMBING THE MOON
a shoreline song youthful and free waves of gold over blue umbrella art the beach a canvas of footprints voices, laughing, calling out the chance of summer over the shoulder, a pencil sketch of gray lines, a song built from day, a little of the past here in the present
to the river currents of madness, a serpent tempting wisdom before time the greatest of powers always running beyond and away a deep voice of fear and warning the under-surface twists and turns its own song as it keeps the sides forever apart
Roger Singer 