Sounds of Joy

Sounds of Joy

If pure and clear joy has any sounds
I think they are four;
The soft and welcome purr
Of your cat resting on your lap,
The contented voice of a tiny baby
As he says ‘nom, nom, nom,’
The quiet talk of the breeze
High in the trees
Deep on a slow Wednesday night,
And the gentle whisper of “I love you’
After you heard her say it
Ten thousand times
And it’s still true

Dewey Dirks

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Water Flower

Water Flower

There are bits
Of randomness and uncertainty
Built into you and I and all things
Creativity arises from the dance between
Those parts of us that are uncertain
And those parts of us
That seek to paint order

Bedtime stories
Like the one that says our Universe
Suddenly sprang into existence
Out of nothing in the middle of nowhere
In a giant bang for no good reason
Or the one that says
God and a bunch of his angels
Created the Universe in four days
Out of copious amounts mud,
A big ball of box string,
And some of those red doilies
That his wife uses in her hair
Are tales we tell each other
So we can pretend we actually know

Our creativity, the life we each breathe,
And our Universe itself, I think,
Are birthed as emergent behavior
—Recursive words of action
In the mysterious language of eternity
Born of Kodachrome fractals,
Kaleidoscopic randomness
And a distant, hidden, grand order

Each of our lives is much more a matter
Of the thoughts we think,
What we feel in our hearts,
And the joy, sadness, and laughter in our souls
Than it is anything of physical existence

And our world?
It is a water flower
Bloomed of sprouting seed
Sweet love, immense thunderstorms
And brilliant sunlight
In a quiet eddy of a deep blue pond
In a land vast beyond imagination
Full of happenings
That have nothing to do
With any of us

Dewey Dirks

Potential

Potential

When Nature gave
Humans the potential
to destroy the ecosystems
of the Earth,
it also gave us the capacity
to preserve them.
Which way is it to be, my friends?
The choice of what we do
with our intelligence and ingenuity
is up to us.

Dewey Dirks

First Time Home

First Time Home

Each morning
I sit at the kitchen table
And watch in silent amazement
As the city slowly shakes off its sleep
My soul
Is a clear, living, liquid crystal
It prisms the white sunlight
Washing the morning
Into rich, rainbow color waves
Across my minds eye

A blackbird flies by to perch
On the playground fence across the way
And for a little while, together we share
The coming day

Early morning light
Moves around us and through us,
Quietly painting
A new days silent love
Across desert stucco tan buildings,
Gently swaying green tree leaves,
And into the kaleidoscope sky
Like a fresh, rinsing bath
Its touch is softer than a whisper
And its taste is a hint
Of bees honey and ginger spice

I know the roads I’ve taken
Took a wide turn some time back
I didn’t know where they were headed
But I really like what I can see and touch
And it’s not like I ever really knew
Where I these roads would lead
When I started out so long ago
But I know now what they mean
When they say that you travel far
Until you finally return home
And see it for the first time

I remember mornings like these
Long, long ago—
Many times I watched them
Worlds away
Never knowing what I was seeing

Dewey Dirks