BW Jericho Image

It is all I have ever wanted,
to live in harmony—in a peace
that vibrates,
a palpable resonance
through common people.

as in ancient times,
aligned harmonies
break down walls
with the horn blast
of humanity. Trumpeting
divinity of tramping feet.



Red Maples by CTD 2005 Flickr Creative Commons

There is a quiet moment
when winter moves aside
and spring begins
secret and obscure
it hides
known to initiates
holding full glory
of the new season
in newly formed hands

In mystery
arching and straight
stark as branching veins
against the flat sky
small trees lift their
growing edges
to be transformed
from sienna to burgundy
by the warmth and light
of an eternal star.

Red maples slowly uncoil
their blossoms
promise of fruitfulness
chancing cold
frost tinged air
they rise in union
with the opening world

Photo credit: flickr creative commons user Ctd 2005


Folly Beach. Marsh, Birds and Morris Island Light by Wm. Smithem

Today I have watched
every cycle of the tide.
four divided by two
high and low
alternately covering
and uncovering.

With each one
I expected
to find some evidence of you
floating toward me,
or evidence of you
steadily in retreat
and I only found
the rhythm of the ritual
flood and fall.
like a woman’s body,
the marsh fills and empties.

I think I expected this water
to bring you to me like
Jesus walking;
a miracle resolving all
doubts, simply believed.

Then I imagined
that I would flow
outward and find you
connected as we are
by the water, the wind,
and the grasses
undulating in unison.

But all I saw
were the birds,
who took flight
and carried me
into the horizon.

I Sleep Under Words

Folly Beach Dawn by William P Smithem

I sleep under words
cocooned in down
I dream with ideas
formed by other minds
read by eyes
felt in bones

In the light I wear them
amulet like fetishes
bound bits of sound
arbitrary vibrations
tongue utterance

I climb the cliff
into the darkness
led by the glow
of their lingering
pearlescent in the
nascent dawn

Driving Into Eternity

Driving Into Eternity

Riding downhill into the wind
I awaken to the joy of possibility.
Exhilarated by the speed
I am propelled into my future.

Driving the straight-away with ever increasing urgency.
Competently shifting
Clutch, shift, accelerate
Clutch, shift, accelerate
I explode through the barrier into the unknown
Flying into my dreams.

Phosphorescent flashes light the blackness
Black on Black
Magnesium explosion on green
White core into day night
Resolution into blindness

Edisto Soul


Crossing the Edisto,
I saw my soul
Reflected on the
Black Water.
Caught like the sky
In its mirrored surface,
Like the leaves floating.
Fallen from the Source,
In Autumn.

Guitars and Players


Guitars and Players


Hands Plucking
Strings quivering
Sounds Resonating
In spaces confined.

Music created by touch,
Movements of air,
Vibrations gliding past in time.

Two bodies aligned in the concert of ancient Rhythms
Fingers pressing, moving
swiftly stroking rippling
Energy concentrated into points defined
by lines of sinew, sensuously drawn.

She who dances in response
laid upon his lap curved, open
touched deliberately, determinedly,
to create response.
Passion with single-minded focus.


Passion and violence
Chords strained
Knotted in pain
Give dissonance and harmony.

Frenzy, cacophony
She howls in a harmony of protest
Lust, plaintive, demanding.
Blue wailing into the night.

To John Holenko and Kent Duchaine, who moved me with their playing in two separate concerts on February 17, 1992.