Winter Feels Like Scorn

Winter feels like scorn

Spring a distant legend

By the fire I shall warm

Until brighter suns do beckon

If none come

It’s the end I reckon

Gene G. McLaughlin 2015

Spring Bird

Spring bird in winter

Chirping hopeful song

Sun shining brightly

Chill not yet gone

Cat is thinking darkly

Song goes on too long

Gene G. McLaughlin 2015

I Heard A Rumor of Warm Wind


I heard a rumor of warm wind

I heard of a tale of green growth

I heard a story of cold’s end

I doubt the veracity of both

Gene G. McLaughlin 2015

So Much Of Spring is Faith



So much of spring is faith

A red flower

We were not certain

Would bloom again

Alive once more

It is the unknowns

That winter creates

Which give birth to wonder

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

Late March Sky 6 p.m.

March Sky

March is ever undecided

Nothing in the cold wind

Or the warming air

Betrays its mind

Or intentions

I’ll decide

When I decide

March decries

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

Winter Knows

Winter knows

What summer doesn’t

Winter shows us

That which wasn’t

In spring life grows again

In summer we see that couldn’t

Gene G. McLaughlin 2014

The Peak of Life

I want to put my feet up

By the river

The sound

Of the flow

Around me


Coming to life

The peak of life awakening

Once again

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

A Spring Wish

I want to be the man I am on the best of days

For as many days as I able

I want my moments of wonder

To outshine those where I feel unstable

I want to live a life of light and love

Where all days I feel enabled

Come sit with me and we will talk of joys

All are welcome at my table

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

A Spring Zen Prayer

Permit me to let go the things I am not

The things that are denied me

The things that are not to be

The things that cause me anger

The things that I cannot control

The things that are of me, but haunt me

The things that are of not of me, but haunt me

The things that the world imposed upon me

The things that I imposed upon myself

Permit me to know the things that are hidden

The things that become lost to me repeatedly

The things I must learn time and time again

The things I know are true, but cannot accept

The things that are of all things and not just me

The things that are of me and unmoving and real

The things that are not the narrative of it, but the pulse of it

The things that are silent and neither want nor give

The things a rock knows when the hammer falls upon it

I am the wind

Never allowed to settle or still

I am the ocean

Many things that look to be one from a distance

I am the sand

Both shifting and stable at once

I am the fire

Grown from spark to inferno to cinder all in a day

Let me begin each day and try to hear the silent sound

Let me begin each day and try to see the color of air

Let me begin each day and try to feel the back of my mind

Let me begin each day and try to smell the heat of the rising sun

Let me begin each day and try to feel the love I know pulses through the world,

but is sometimes lost to me.

If I cannot, let me accept my struggle and failure

Living not wanting to be that which I am am not

And rising tomorrow to try again to see

I am not it, but of it

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013

The Quiet Life

I am greedy for the quiet life

For the longing to forever end

Accumulation and achievement leading to

An empty series of dusty rooms

I have already visited

Finding them wanting

Let’s waltz my love

On the porch

While the sun goes down

As the azaleas bloom

And spring comes again

The most important things earned

Are learned by the failures of success

And the victory of the speckled dusty air

Dancing at twilight

Gene G. McLaughlin 2013