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Thursday, April 09, 2015

Certainty

Certainty

Yes, of course I am sure!

I am sure that I am not sure of anything

except

that I search, I quest, I look under every leaf, under every tree,

under every ocean sunset,

in every heart,

I search for true joy,

for real happiness,

for real love.

Yes, of course I am sure!

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 8:19 AM
Categories: Poetry

Wednesday, April 01, 2015

Firework Trees

Willow-like trees paint green brush strokes against a gray desert sky,

promising much needed rain.

Like green daytime fireworks,

these trees display their new-growth green colors.

Then, umbrellas walk by my window

under-which students walk in quiet meditation

toward the warmth of the library or

the thoughts presented in their next class.

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 10:00 AM
Categories: Poetry

Monday, December 15, 2014

Crossing the Great River of Life

When a river has stones in it and when we want to cross that river, we often walk on those stones.

We walk carefully, but confidently from one stone to another.

As we cross such a great river, our perspective changes. As we move from one side of the river to the other, the trees and mountains, the grass and the flowers, look a little different with each step - with each stone we step upon.

Your heart, your goals, your aspirations, your inner calling is more (so much more) than what we think at any moment in time.

So, go forward, crossing the great river of life. Walk confidently, walk carefully, walk intentionally - but with humility - for you did not create these stones you walk upon.

Pay attention to the moss-covered stones, the stones under the water, the stones that are delicately balanced on top of another stone.

With love in your heart and a smile on your face go forward,

go forward my dear friend,

go forward across the great river of life.

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 1:09 PM
Categories: Poetry

Friday, November 21, 2014

How Many Times Did My Mother Call My Name

How Many Times

How many times did my mother call my name?

and how many times did my father call my name?

Or, your mother called you or your father called your name?

And of those many, many times, some were calling you for dinner which interrupted your play, or mine.

Out of love and responsibility she called you, she called me.

And of those many times how many times was it to criticize or to punish you?

Out of love and responsibility she called you, she called me, he called you, he called me.

But of those many, many times, how many times did she or he call you or me to praise you or me?

I’m thinking…

I’m trying to remember…

Perhaps I’m too old to remember.

Maybe it was too long ago.

Maybe…

~~~~~~

© Steven Fletcher

November 21, 2014
Posted by Steven Fletcher at 12:17 PM
Edited on: Friday, November 21, 2014 12:22 PM
Categories: Poetry

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Memories

Soon, I’ll leave the sad memories,

the bad memories embedded in these walls,
behind.
I’ll take with me the good ones,
the memories embedded in these hearts,
embedded in these smiles,
embedded in these moments in time
a light on my path
they go before me.
There is the path before me,
illumined with the light from you all,
the tears like rivers,
on the each side.
Here I go,
there you go.

© Steven Fletcher

May 15, 2014

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 9:14 AM
Edited on: Thursday, May 15, 2014 9:31 AM
Categories: Poetry

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Not Every Song

~

Not every song has a name,

not every bird is a peacock.

But

every living thing

that is showered with love

is a river of beauty.

~~~

© Steven Fletcher,October 13, 2012
  
Posted by Steven Fletcher at 10:58 AM
Edited on: Saturday, October 13, 2012 11:40 AM
Categories: Poetry

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Jasmine Tea

The world stops,
for just a moment,
as I stir honey in jasmine tea.
Autumn-coming-winds,
announce the change,
as I stir honey in jasmine tea.
The turmoil of my mind stops,
for just a moment,
as I stir honey in jasmine tea.
The steam rises.
I drink…
and the warm liquid fills me.
© Steven Fletcher
August 30, 2012
Posted by Steven Fletcher at 11:15 AM
Edited on: Thursday, August 30, 2012 11:27 AM
Categories: Poetry

Monday, August 27, 2012

The Sunflower

The sunflower - at the end of a sunny day;

tired it bows its head,

tired from chasing the sun,

it waits patiently for the moisture of the darkness

to bestow life

and

prepare it for another tomorrow.

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 9:58 PM
Categories: Poetry

Thursday, August 09, 2012

Freedom

Freedom

Been trying to rediscover freedom,

but I was chained for so long,

I forgot what it means,

what it tastes like,

what it feels like.

You see I had chained myself

and those chains are hard to remove,

but today,

somehow,

by some miracle,

by some gift,

I found out how to be free again.

Nice !

© Steven Fletcher August 9, 2012

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 7:27 PM
Edited on: Thursday, August 09, 2012 8:54 PM
Categories: Poetry

Sunday, June 03, 2012

A Bird Out of Nowhere

A Bird Out of Nowhere

~

Like a bird out of nowhere,

you came through the open window,

flying circles in my heart.

~~

Like a bird out of nowhere,

you gave me such joy,

flying circles in my heart.

~~

Like a bird out of nowhere,

will you stay for a while,

flying circles in my heart?

~~

Or like a bird out of nowhere,

will you leave again soon,

leaving,

only circles in my heart?

~~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 5:53 AM
Categories: Poetry

Saturday, April 07, 2012

Just a Guy

Just a Guy

Really I’m not what you think,

I’m not so high and not so smart,

I’m just an ordinary guy,

walking through your town,

playing the flutes I made.

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 12:00 PM
Edited on: Saturday, April 07, 2012 12:08 PM
Categories: Poetry

Friday, April 06, 2012

Falling Raindrop

Falling Raindrop

~

To travel to visit you,

how can this be work?

For the raindrop

to fall

from the cloud

and

let the warm sunshine

pass through it?

Is this the work you speak of?

~~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 12:32 PM
Categories: Poetry

Thursday, March 29, 2012

The Good Times

~

The Good Times

~~

But what about the good times,

were they an accident,

or was this some trick of nature that we both fell into?

~

Or did we both invest trust,

did we both invest love,

or was this just some trick of nature that we both fell into?

~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 9:02 AM
Categories: Poetry

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Was It

This is a new song written this morning. Played with the kapo on the 7th fret with pick and a marching kind of beat

Am

Was it that the wind that came first?

G

Or was it the sun?

F G Am

I’m not sure I care – as long as I feel Your love.

Is water more powerful

than the wind

I’m not sure I care – as long as I feel Your love.

Did you see me first?

Or did I see you?

I’m not sure I care – as long as I feel Your love.

Is the warmth from the sunshine

Or just from the sun?

I’m not sure I care – as long as I feel Your love.

How deep is the Ocean

How high is the sky

I’m not sure I care – as long as I feel Your love.

How high does your kite fly

Up in the sky

I’m not sure I care – as long as I feel Your love.

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 2:40 PM
Edited on: Sunday, June 03, 2012 6:15 AM
Categories: Poetry

Monday, March 26, 2012

Courtroom Bench

~

Courtroom Bench

~

Yes, thanks I am tired

and I could use a rest.

But, isn’t that a courtroom bench

in your nest of love?

~

Ah, thanks, I’d best be going,

I’ll rest another place.

But, thank you all the same.

~~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 8:42 AM
Categories: Poetry

Thursday, March 22, 2012

I Still Am

I Still Am

I am not going back,

for I still am;

the guy wandering,

guitar on his back,

minstrel like,

singing his simple rhymes.

~~

I am not going back,

for I still am,

the young man with tools

and bamboo,

traveling, making, playing

and sometimes selling

the flutes he made.

~~

Now,

he traded some tools for others,

the bamboo is the classroom,

students are his tools,

but I am not going back

for I still am.

~~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 9:03 AM
Categories: Poetry

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Courage

Courage

~

Do you have the courage to love me?

Not just for now,

but forever?

To love me with all of your heart,

with all of the passion of your mind?

Do you think you can sustain that love,

always being optimistic,

working to nurture that love?

Can you do that when our cultures clash,

when our goals conflict,

when are stars are not aligned?

Can you be brave

when I seem too powerful or

when I feel strongly I'm right,

and you know I'm wrong?

Can you have the courage to believe

that the sunshine of truth can overcome

the sorrows of our past memories?

Can you have the courage to believe

I will always love you

even though I don't yet know you,

even though we haven't yet met?

~~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 6:03 PM
Edited on: Tuesday, March 20, 2012 9:02 PM
Categories: Poetry

Sunday, March 11, 2012

A Work in Progress

Yes, I am a work in progress.

Aren't we all?

~

And I may change through my love of you,

but not by your efforts.

~

Some have tried before,

and they have failed,

and so will you,

I know it.

~

But, yes,

you’re right,

I am a work in progress.

~~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 9:06 AM
Categories: Poetry

Heaven and Hell Are Neighbors

~~~

I walked down a street called “Now,”

it was a long street with only two houses.

At the other end of the street,

there was another sign,

and it said “This Moment.”

I guess this street has two names.

On the street there were only two houses

and

they both had names.

One was called heaven,

the other called hell.

It seemed strange to me.

~

Both were painted white with colorful trim,

and both seemed about the same size.

In both cases the front door was open

and little and a sign said,

“Welcome, walk right in.”

~

Between the two houses there was a low fence.

There was a sign on both sides of the fence that said,

“It all depends how you look at things.”

That low fence looked easy for most humans to step over.

I did notice that

the folks in heaven had long legs

and could easily step over that fence,

but the folks on the other side had short legs,

and it wasn’t so easy to step over the fence.

~

Both houses had pleasant sounding noises coming from them,

but the one with the longer name had a kind of

bright light flowing out through the doors and windows

like water from an overflowing cup.

But the other house,

the one with the short name,

had a dark liquid smoke

flowing out from the front door.

~

I guess heaven and hell are neighbors.

~~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 9:02 AM
Edited on: Sunday, March 11, 2012 9:14 AM
Categories: Poetry

Friday, March 09, 2012

An Act of Will

~

Happiness,

an act of will;

down in the valley,

up on the hill;

wherever you are,

happiness is,

an act of will.

~~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 11:38 PM
Categories: Poetry

Wednesday, March 07, 2012

One Day Fades Into the Next

~

One day fades gently into the next;

not hard,

not soft;

less high,

less low;

just one day fading into the next.

~

As time passes,

accepting that,

time passes gently;

always bringing a better tomorrow,

no matter the yesterday;

just one day fading gently into the next.

~

The fear is gone now,

accepting the unknown future,

embracing firmly the now,

just one day fading gently,

ever so gently,

into the next.

~

Like lines of poetry,

written on the moving paper of time;

just

one day

fading into the next

~~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 6:39 AM
Categories: Poetry

Tuesday, March 06, 2012

The Shadow is Gone

The shadow is going now,

I can feel it each day.

~

No blame,

no cause needed,

but the shadow,

is getting shorter now,

and the sunshine,

is

brighter.

~

One day soon,

I will awake

and say

the shadow is gone.

~~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 7:16 PM
Edited on: Tuesday, March 06, 2012 7:24 PM
Categories: Poetry

Monday, March 05, 2012

An Unfolding Picture

~

A picture begins to unfold:

a simple place,

maybe a wife,

maybe not.

~

A small studio for writing,

a little workshop with good tools for making musical instruments.

lots of exposed wood,

but small.

~

Maybe a little outdoor theater for small concerts,

maybe a round classroom for courses and seminars,

maybe a little place to sit around a fire at night.

~

A picture begins to unfold.

~~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 9:22 AM
Edited on: Monday, March 05, 2012 9:26 AM
Categories: Poetry

War

Death and dying are natural things;

not understood,

but natural.

~~

But to die,

to see

which nation has more stomach for it,

which nation will sacrifice more of its young,

to be part of that,

to be one of those numbers,

for this I cry;

as do

most all

of the mothers,

and

many of the fathers,

and

all of the children,

and

all

of those with hearts.

~~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 8:38 AM
Edited on: Monday, March 05, 2012 9:28 AM
Categories: Poetry

Thursday, March 01, 2012

Tears

Your tears like two beautiful rivers

flowed down

unashamed.

~

Oh, such beauty!

~

Such an honor to be there.

~~

And then later on,

walking in the sunshine,

the sunlight glistened like diamonds

on your eyelashes.

~~

How can tears

be seen

as such

beauty?

~~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 5:46 PM
Categories: Poetry

Path of Life

We are all struggling on the path of life,

seeking that, which - we have not yet found;

falling down and soaring in the heavens,

we are all struggling on the path of life.

~~

We are all struggling on the path of life,

we laugh sometimes, at times we cry;

we see the same sunshine – refracted through the rain,

but we are all struggling on the path of life.

~~

We are all struggling on the path of life,

we make rainbows and we make clouds;

our paths are different and yet the same,

and we are all struggling on the path of life.

~~~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 4:20 PM
Edited on: Thursday, March 01, 2012 5:26 PM
Categories: Poetry

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Living Alone

If you live alone in your mind,

if you never share your deepest, secret thoughts,

then what is the point

of

living with another?

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 12:18 PM
Edited on: Monday, March 05, 2012 11:47 PM
Categories: Poetry

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Knowing You

You told me

what you wanted,

you told me what you needed,

and you gave me a reason,

but I didn’t know you.

Then later,

you told me what you wanted,

and you told me what you needed,

and you told me the reason,

and now

I know you.

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 7:26 AM
Edited on: Sunday, February 26, 2012 9:40 AM
Categories: Poetry

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Red Flower Road

Oh, Red Flower Road
How can you know how much I miss you?
Even though I have cleaned your dust from my shoes;
Even though I could find no more rusted nails on your sides;
Still I miss you, I miss you badly.
If my tears mix with your dust, can the pain of missing you go away?
  
Posted by Steven Fletcher at 4:32 PM
Categories: Poetry

Friday, March 04, 2011

Planning and Flowing

Life is such a blend,

of planning and flowing;

of digging canals

and

watching the waters flood their banks.

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 10:27 AM
Edited on: Friday, July 20, 2012 7:36 AM
Categories: Poetry

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Overfilling Dreams

Life is short enough

to make searching your soul

your now - life’s work

and it is

long enough to fill your soul to overfilling

with all

your dreams.

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 3:20 PM
Categories: Poetry

Sunday, March 07, 2010

Eternity

To be touched on the forehead by your mother,

or to sleep with your child against your breast,

or to feel the little fingers of your grandson nestled in your own calloused hand.

This is,

to touch eternity.

~

~~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 12:46 PM
Categories: Poetry

Saturday, February 28, 2009

Rejected Goodness

Why did we reject goodness anyway?

Was it that we had bad inclinations or we had the devil in us?

Or was it perhaps that somehow we saw hypocrisy as less than real?

Or that being real had more value

than pretended good ?

~~

~~~~~

~~

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 3:29 AM
Edited on: Saturday, February 28, 2009 3:36 AM
Categories: Poetry

Friday, February 20, 2009

Could it be?

Could it be

that I am what I am

because I want to be

what I have become?

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 3:28 AM
Edited on: Friday, February 20, 2009 3:31 AM
Categories: Poetry

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

First Steps

First Steps

Some time after my first birthday and before my second,

I began to walk.

I don’t remember much of those first few steps but I guess some of them weren’t too good.

I don’t worry too much about those awkward, misdirected, stumbling steps these days.

Sometime after my first birthday and before my death,

I began to talk.

There have been a lot of awkward, misdirected, stumbling steps since then,

and I guess some of them weren’t too good.

Sometime between now and then,

I think I’ll make a lot awkward, misdirected, stumbling steps.

Somebody loves me.

© Steven Fletcher

February 10, 2009

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 9:18 AM
Categories: Poetry

Friday, January 30, 2009

Nuances

Nuances

Nuances pile up:

the subtle breath,

the watched glanced at,

the window looked out,

the “darn it” said with all the venom of “damn it”

all picked up casually like little carpet sweepings from parents,

and older children;

till they become not just a pile of nuances,

but our personality.

© Steven Fletcher

January 29, 2009

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 5:33 AM
Categories: Education, Poetry

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Winter Sky

Winter Sky

Silhouetting the Oak and the tall pines,

on the horizon to the north-east a thin band of white clouds,

and on top a layer of deep black-blue absorbing all the light you can see.

To the south the last glimpse of light shines brightly before disappearing for the night.

Something strange is happening and as fast as the thought comes,

pepper corn hail starts to bounce on the deck and

as fast as the bright sun came and the drapes were thrown open it is dark.

Throw another log on the fire – just in case.

© Steven Fletcher

January 26, 2009

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 5:32 AM
Edited on: Friday, January 30, 2009 5:34 AM
Categories: Poetry

Friday, August 22, 2008

Endless Cycles

We learn

and then we teach,

and in between

we have endless cycles of falling.

© August 21, 2008

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 5:53 AM
Categories: Poetry

Sunday, August 10, 2008

The Pain

Beaten down so bad,

oh, such pain!

What about humanity,

breaking endless cycles of pain?

Will it ever end ?

Can I be first?

Can I be last?

Let it go!

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 4:15 AM
Categories: Poetry

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Yosemite Dream

Was it a dream, this vision this scent of jasmine?

Was it a dream, this heart-beat-pulse of Yosemite, this vision of Muir?

Can we share this space – expansive enough for the RV and the climber, the rich and the poor?

Can this vision, create an understated utopia?

Posted by Steven Fletcher at 3:53 AM
Edited on: Sunday, March 30, 2008 2:54 AM
Categories: Poetry

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Dancing Into the Light

Clinging to each other out of fear,
the two lovers died in each others arms,
and drifted peacefully into the light.
~~~
Smiling fearlessly at the sunset,
the two lovers died with upraised arms,
and danced ecstatically into the light.
Posted by Steven Fletcher at 11:08 PM
Edited on: Friday, February 24, 2012 11:20 PM
Categories: Poetry