The Strait of Juan De Fuca

I left home with a heavy heart

My zeal was gone, my murky mind thick

Like the heavy fog o’er the Strait of Juan De Fuca

 

As I prayed for direction the sun broke through

A shaft of light sliced the fog and lifted my mood

Signified hope on the Strait of Juan De Fuca

 

I split the zone in a twisting wind

It felt cold, surreal, nondescript

Like the morning fog o’er the Strait of Juan De Fuca

 

The vague ambiguity was sliced right through

Enlightenment revealed the horizon

Signaling hope on the Strait of Juan De Fuca

 

When meandering, directionless

Churning, drudging in a pit

Like a dense fog o’er the Strait of Juan De Fuca

 

Look to Heaven where help comes from

God’s light breaks through like light through fog

Spiritual hope on the Strait of Juan De Fuca

 

By Royce Waxenfelter

9/27/16 & 3/2/17

 

Boat in a Moat

Don’t be stopped by rocks in your path, look around like a giraffe,

 

Find another way around, ask for help where it can be found.

 

Don’t be sleepy and stay in bed, start moving early to get ahead.

 

Don’t be a boring couch potato, grow in the sun like a big tomato.

 

Don’t be lazy - good for nothing, be someone - accomplish something!

 

Don’t be just another stick in the mud, join together and stop the flood.

 

Don’t be still like a bump on a log, be the jump of a friendly frog.

 

Don’t drink whiskey, don’t take drugs, instead, lend support and give out hugs.

 

Don’t think only of yourself; look for others who need your help.

 

Don’t be a leaky boat in a stagnant moat, be the motion in the surging ocean!

 

By Royce Waxenfelter

5/29/09

Separation Lament

A note of longing

A bridge of belonging yet seldom spanned

A soaring arrow

Sheathed, long and narrow, grounded, banned

A willing yearning

Rarely learning the depth, the breadth

A silent missing

Should be kissing the mouth, the neck

A burning ember

Do you remember the fire, the heat

A rough journey home

A breath my comb your gently blown wheat

An exhale in grandeur

Caressing your hand, your hair, your smile

A victorious battle

We’re back in the saddle of one for a while

By Royce Waxenfelter

11/18/14