Here are a few samples selected from the 81 poems in this volume.  If you want to order this book, click on the email address at the bottom of the page.  Please include the following in you message:  (1) title of the book you are ordering, (2) your name and mailing address.

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SCIENCE AND/OR RELIGION Either way – we live in a mind-boggling universe of blessing or stunning emerald world of unbelievable chance or most intriguing of all home of blessing and chance plus all now hidden in dark silence calling to us	SEEN AND UNSEEN What will you show me today? I ask no one in particular, i.e. the Universe Watch closely, she says, with your eyes wide open or tightly shut Either way, trust your sight. There’s as much inside you to see as outside Light and darkness are both cornucopias of terror and delight Pay attention to the tiny and huge.  Microorganisms and galaxies are dance partners, equally astonishing. Marvel at the seen and unseen.  Your invisible soul is most of you like dark energy and matter are 95% of the Universe
BOX ELDER The only tree in sight as far as the eye can travel in any direction, a lone box elder beside Route 64 between Taos and Tres Piedras just east of the Rio Grande Gorge. I stop the car to look more carefully, to see if what I see is so. Or am I missing something? What wind or winged creature of the desert, what serendipity dropped a singular seed here, to root sprout hold on tenaciously alone against the gales and drought that buffet this arid plain? One tree in this vast and daunting land – raising questions, planting awe	WAKEUP SOUNDS Schoodic Peninsula, Maine Late June, early morning at Schoodic Point, cup of coffee in hand, I listen to this day’s wakeup sounds Squawk of seagulls, crows’ chatter, sparrows’ lilt, scamper of chipmunks in and out of rocky crevices, brush of wind through oak and pine, hum of bees roaming pink beach plumb blossoms, throb of diesel engine as a lobsterman, anchored safely away from treacherous boulders, hauls his traps Numinous silence somewhere deep in me reverberates to the timpani pound of thunderous waves against unwavering cliffs
PSALM 159 Enigma within mystery within darkness Not of our flesh or mind or spirit – wholly Other Yet of us, of our Universe inexplicably How do we address You who is not a “you”? How does our species, recently arrived on Earth, presume your presence? Bold leap of imagination never before surmised We cringe at anthropological metaphors glibly used for You Yet this language is what we have, our limit and our glory Are we fools to believe we can speak of what we do not know, to invent nouns to name the unseen, to reference You with our frail pronouns? Bear with us patiently, Great Mystery, we are on a journey never before taken	MANTRA mind body soul wisdom beauty justice compassion kindness generosity love above all One
EXTRAVAGANT BEAUTY Sun, not yet risen above the Organ Mountains, splashes wisps of pink, horizon to horizon, across dawn’s blue-gray dome. One by one windows of valley homes blink on as folks rise into day-break splendor which, as we grope toward wakefulness, elicits a resounding exclamation, or perhaps a quiet murmur of gratitude to God, or luck or serendipity or mystery – whatever has blessed us with this extravagant beauty.	BEECH BRANCHES From the warm light of home I step out into night. Early December storms have stripped remnant leaves from Beech limbs, now intricate gray webbing through which I gaze at the sky. The tree is full of stars.  My breath, a mist of awe, hangs in arctic air.