A Quiet Place


In the shade of nature’s nook,

peace of mind is closer than you think

Meditation sings with trickles of wind chimes ,

or the creak of an old wicker bench

There’s always a space for those willing to sit,

but not for those who choose to walk by

Buddha is listening with his eyes closed,

wisdom is felt and seldom seen

Whether or not you believe,

take his advice and just simply be


- – -

c.b.w. 2014




Watercolor waves rise and fall
dipped in onyx, kissed by pearls
Skeleton bristles soaked with light,
soar from black shores, ready to paint
Magenta canvas covered in gold,
whispers of pink, hush purple night
Unwritten stars wait for the muse,
velvet mist for the glow of the moon


- – -

Photo: Little Gibson Lake, Wisconsin, c.b.w. 2005
Words: c.b.w. 2014



Before the birds take flight, navy is barely pale blue.

Spring leaves glow, bidding goodbye to night. It’s time to grow and drink in the light.

Diamonds float on water as pale sunbeams rise. The treasure of the day has arrived.

A silent propeller pushes solitude forward. Into the bay, along the shore.  Life reaches out with invisible hands.

The dome is so large, a heartbeat so small. Such is the world, a pale speck on a spectacular stage.

From one little place, waves cascade.


- – -

Photo: Watson Lake, near Prescott, AZ, c.b.w. 2013
Words: c.b.w. 2014