Poetry - All

You do not see, past the test tubes and chemicals plotter charts and ribbon images, all the colors of life and the rhythms of rebirth. You do not hear past the rhythmic rattle and hum of centrifuges and lyophilizers the angelic song of love woven in the fibers of your being. Perhaps it is not meant for you to know the hypnotic beauty which mesmerizes like a cobra till all is forgotten but its fanned neck and weaving head. Perhaps you are meant to be so intently focused on

One dark moonless night, clear sky, bright stars, no earth, from the far end of the long pier the woods and beach were indistinguishable in the impenetrable darkness. The lake water was still like glass as billions of atoms danced in the windless silence. I looked down into the water at the floating stars, and for a moment beyond human consciousness, weightless and lost somewhere in the middle of the universe, with no up or down, no East or West, I became only center and re