The Trackless Path

The gift of things is best for children  Who don’t yet know what’s best for them Nor what they really want. The gift of money is best for those Who know what they want If the thing they want  Is best for them.

A key difference between communism And the oneness that exists between brothers In God's unseen Kingdom Is that God's Kingdom  Does not rely upon Two of the principal pillars of communism - Force and deceipt. Truth and free will and brotherly love Prompt all of the giving and receiving. No force. No lies. 

I am going to ask somebody else To pay for the book that you receive. That’s the new economy. I’m going to give you the book for free And I am not going to ask you to pay for it. I’m going to ask for what I need right now. And since you’re not here right now, I will ask the nearest friend I meet. Can I have food to eat? Can I have the thing I need? That’s the new economy. You sow where you do not...

I know that God will provide for me. But outward things press in  And beg to be taken care of. And they can become vexatious. And so I like to push them out, to pay them early. And thus, to know that they are taken care of So that I can ply my trade in peace, Also, to define them and keep them small. That makes every surplus dollar extra-credit.

I like to be on the edge of what I have. I like not knowing where my next meal will come from. It gives me sweet pleasure To ride upon providence. So a strategy brews To shed what I have quickly-  To invest it into the ones I love Before my right hand Can know what my left hand is doing, And to spread my bread upon the waters And thus be ever on the very wake  Of what God provides. This post seems...

The frugal man will always have the advantage Over the man who spends beyond his means. But we have forgotten what it means to be frugal. Spend far less than what you make And never go into debt. That definition will work. I met a man who lived that way And he was wealthy in a way  That I have never seen  In another human being. It was almost unearthly, Powerful. Humble. And after all these years...

An ad just played before the video And suggested that I needed to manifest something, And it pulled me in. Yeah, maybe I need that... I thought. But it is out there. It suggests That what I have is not enough. And isn't that the opposite of wealth?

I busked today. And it was the children That paid my way. They thought it was cool. And they called their friends And dropped coins into my case. That surprised me. But it was beautiful.

A certain feeling visits me today. I remember it from my childhood. It is the feeling of looking out on the world in silence, And seeing everything just how it appears,  Without interpretation. And you would think that the sentiment Would be neutral, but it’s not. There is a warm and definite sense Of everything being just right, As if existence itself Has a favorable opinion of itself. But strang...

I sit on the edge of the world - looking in. And here upon the ridge of heaven There is Peace.

If we can create for ourselves A living hell in this life. Then it only makes sense  That the hell that we create might continue If the blackness of our hearts is real And not imagined. And if our conscience pricks us here When our eyes are dimmed  By deceitful outward appearances, Then the same conscience might prick us there When the falsehood of our outer shell is stripped away, And all the mor...

I will be moving for the rest of my life, Moving, moving, ever moving. For it calls me, ever calls me To wander, ever wander  Down the roads and byways  In and out and through the earth until I am called back home. And it is such a comfort To know that in my restless journey I have found a home, A place to warm Myself beside the fire That burns within my bosom And calls me to the ones  Whose lones...

I like this place. I like this time of year. And I like this time of day, The way the sun reflects so gently Off the bricks of the buildings across the street, Not like the brutal sun of summertime. And on the mountain,  The light casts shades  Into the crevices and dimples  Of the wooded, colored, slopes. And the hush of Autumn blankets everything  Here on the street with the peace That only visi...

“A week ago,” she said, “From Kosovo,” she said. “Really!” I said. “Yes.” And there was a bucket full of roses beside her, Ten dollars a rose,  Kind of steep, I thought, And a sign in her hand that said,  Please help, large family. “How many are in your family?” I asked. “My two sisters and me And my father and mother.” My family is bigger, I thought. But I didn’t hold that against her. “And where...

The mountain is laden  With yellow veils and brown And the red oak climbs her sides And to the North, the evergreen Holds steady looking down Upon the canyon. So what? It’s nothing new. And yet each and every year I find in it the hope of new beginnings.

Where is the bill of your mother’s divorcement? You say she has one. And I say that I never agreed to that. We had a different understanding, An understanding that was renounced And not by me. But now you weep And mourn uncontrollably  Because you believe that it is over. But it’s not. The love is still inside of me. And sooner or later, that love will win, For all other things will fall away. But...

She came to me  Through misty vision Lest I slip into forgetting And told me “You are the big wave, And I the little wave. You’ve taught me how to sail.” And then she wrapped me up Within her arms as one more reminder That she loves me. And that was sacred, blessed. I thought that, perhaps,  She could not forgive me, That she could not love me. But I see that perhaps she does Even to spite, or bec...

We start another day of work Early in the morning, Long before the sun arises, When the muse won't let us sleep. It's the sacred poet's hour, The hour when others must slumber But we are blest with the best Of midnight powers. And if we rise to meet the thing  That lifts us from our beds, Then we are blessed to hear the voice That speaks from heaven's crest, And then go forth into...

I am at home with myself Wherever I am, Thank God. But there was a time  When I required more. So I understand the need For book and chair, And tea, And hearth, And familiar footfalls  In the corridor, And even for the great structure Of mud and plaster, Board, and brick, And paint, That rises up around it all. And I understand  Why people stay Even when the enemy  Is at their doors. It is home.  ...

The scripture says  That they will beat their swords  Into plowshare.  But when? Exactly when they decide to, I suppose. And who is they? Anyone who chooses, I suppose. And so if it is coming for us anyway. Then why not start now? After all, there will never be many Until there have been a few. And doesn't few begin with one? And if one, why not you? And yet, you’re a bit too late To be the On...

I love the places where nobody cares Like this parking lot. It is a miracle that nobody Is rushing out to tell me to leave. But on the other hand, I'm clean. It might be different if I made a mess. And I am not a vagrant.  I serve a purpose here. I simply prefer the peaceful places That, at this particular moment, Man's ambition hasn't claimed. There is something sacred there, A quiet...

I live in a mini-van All cramped and small. It's like living in a box. But that's ok. The rent is cheap And I don't mind Because I am a poet. I don't need much - A place to sleep, And a chair, And a typewriter. And I sit there all day long and write Except for the days when I stand in the open air And rhyme for spare change. A mini-van is just right For one like me Who lives on the...

A night of busking,  Two dollars earned. It’s the beginning of another life  And the way of the traveling man. My table’s out with copies of my book. And I lure them with song.  Why? Because if I don’t do it, Nobody will.

The Fender Acoustasonic 40, The beginning of amplification. What does it mean? I am not sure. But I bought one With the intention of singing a song That people can actually hear.

The Yamaha NCX1FM, A beautifully sounding guitar, With electronics built in. I bought it on a whim. Which is a thing I never do. An investment. An intention to spend  My life playing the song that God intends.