Tracks of a Wandering Mind

Poetry, stories and random thoughts from a wandering mind.

In the Garden of Stone

(a poem in tanka prose)

In the stone garden
Morning mist covers the ground,
And the autumn chill
Slowly changes the green leaves
To red, gold and fading brown.

Sentinel angels,
Winged seraphs ever watchful,
Guard tiny treasures,
Precious memories that sleep
Beneath the garden’s green grass.

Dark granite headstones,
Damp with the dew of morning,
Salted by the tears
Of mourning, staid reminders
Of passing age and ages.

The dayspring bird songs
Herald the warmth of sunlight
And banish the night
With a new day that declares
Life in the garden of stone.


August 16, 2014 Posted by | Poetry | , , , , | 2 Comments

Piece of Mind

(Just a bit of whimsy that speaks for itself I think)

I’m looking for a little piece of mind,
The one I had is lost again you see.
I had it made up just last night and then
It wandered off and got away from me.

I’d like to give a piece of it to you,
But I opened it, then it went to play.
As soon as I can gather all my thoughts
I’ll close it up and throw the key away!

August 16, 2014 Posted by | Poetry | 2 Comments

Self Doubt

We stare into a false mirror
Seeking to find the truth.
But the glass is crack’d and shatter’d
By lies which hide that truth.

You can’t step through the looking glass
To see the other side.
The image of that which you’d see
By truth will be denied.

And the mirror’s cast is crooked,
The image is askew,
The truth you’d swallow bitterly,
Leads doubt to be imbued.

That reflection is an echo
Of that which you fear most.
The only power that it wields
Is given by its host.

August 14, 2014 Posted by | Poetry | , | 4 Comments


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