We drive from Cambria,
After touring Hearst Castle,
To Morrow Bay,
Passing by a little town
Harmony is hidden
By tall Eucalyptus trees.
As we approach from Highway 1
I can vaguely see an antique store,
A couple of gift stores
A barn and some old rusted out pickups.
And in that split second
I wonder what do they see?
Then the foggy blur of the town
Comes into focus momentarily again.
And I realize they see the world
in a satellite dish.
WHEN BARRIERS NO LONGER EXIST
A woman, seemingly uptight
And on edge,
Suspicious and apprehensive,
Asks a man,
An acquaintance, an admirer, an inamorato,
What do you want from me?
He says, openly and honestly,
Without interference from his ego,
I want to get to know your soul.
THE MISSING YEARS
Man, insolent and pompous,
At the height of his hubris,
But like any other inept superman,
An urbermensch on a mission impossible,
Reserved only for those who have the gift,
The gift to glimpse into the next
Bleak shortsighted, fragile future,
Begins to seriously ponder
What’s left of his ephemeral existence.
Ponders what legacy he will leave behind.
Examines the Family of Man,
Bows his head in prayer, surveys the heavens,
As if looking for ancestors to the God of the undiscovered,
To the God of the unknown, to the God of the unrecognized,
To the God of the unrevealed.
Tests his technology,
And if by alchemy or exorcism
Scientifically probes the past, present, and future,
Discovers another nonlinear branch
Of galactic genealogy,
Embedded in the universe’s DNA.
Continues to look for the exact moment of the Big Bang,
Hoping, at the same time, to discover
The spiritual birth of his soul.