A Tribute to a Lost One

Mending My Broken Heart

It’s been a year since you got wings,

And rose into the cotton sky.

I know you saw me every day,

In lonely solitude, I’d cry.

The diner meals we used to split,

The warming hugs we often shared,

The silly jokes that made you laugh,

You scratched my back to show you cared.

The empty couch where you once sat,

The dining table has your place.

I see you everywhere I gaze,

The lovely smile upon your face.

You’re always present, ever there,

To help me cope throughout the day.

It’s getting better, not too bad,

The days are blue, no longer grey.

Now I sing the radio songs

No salty tears to blur my sight.

No longer do I reach to touch

You in the early morning light.

I must be healing in my heart,

I’m moving forward with my life.

A better man I am today,

Because I loved you as my wife.

(A 1-year anniversary of passing)

Lie In My Shade

Lie in my shade and rest your eyes

Protected from the midday light,

Dream of peace and azure skies

With snowy feathers high in flight.

Give pause to dream our gentle touch

Accompanied by gentle sighs,

Of whispered words that say so much

Postponing thoughts of late goodbyes. 

You were with me yesterday.

Walk in my path and follow me

To where together we shall find

A land of rest forever free,

Our complications left behind.

Keep your sight focused ahead

Release your worries long confined

Cast them back where you have tread

Leave them languishing behind. 

You are with me today.  

Bask in my light to warm your heart

And break the day when tulips bloom,

The loving thoughts that I impart

Will mingle with your sweet perfume.

Let me become your morning sun

Illuminating every room,

Leaving nothing wished undone

‘Neath the alabaster moon. 

You’ll be with me tomorrow.

Laugh in my rain and raise your head

Up to the mist that I will send thee,

Let Heaven’s kisses ever spread

And join our joyous jubilee.

Skip to the rainbow up ahead

Its beauty arc will always see

A message in our hearts instead

That you and I … will ever be. 

You are with me always.

(I wrote this in 2007 when I was in a good mood.)

Beyond the Mist

Come stroll with me, there is a place

Where we can wander in a mist

That raises high in reach of heaven,

Lifting from the liquid kiss.

Floating over that verdant glade

Where streaking swords of soft-dew light

Shine there to guide us on the path

Now lined with blossoms glowing bright.

We’ll sit aside the waterfall,

Beside the crystal frothing wet,

Cushioned by the velvet moss,

Offered there for us to set.

Our thoughts will smile as there we lie,

And lay our cheeks upon the green,

To hear the power of its roar,

To marvel at this glorious scene.

The blue cascade – so fresh and pure,

With emerald robes that watch it flow,

It soothes, refreshes, gives us pause,

And smiles with lacy foamy glow.

Here we embrace and cheek the mist

That dews in droplets on our eyes,

We kiss away the moisture sweet

And claim the moistened lips for prize.

We groom the soft moss from our hair,

Rejoicing at this beauty call,

And dance beyond the shadow of

The power of the waterfall.

I wrote this poem during a reflective moment in January 2005.

Homage to a Dove

Birdy, birdy in the tree,

Drop no dovey poop on me.

And when you flutter to the sky,

Drop no whitewash in my eye.

What’d I do to make you mad?

Will you poop and make me sad?

Please, I ask with all my heart,

Don’t upset my apple cart.

With love and respect, Craig

Tiny Little Fishies

Tiny Little Fishies

By Craig Miyamoto (July 10, 2011)

 

Tiny little fishies

Swimming in the sea,

Making tiny bubbles,

Looking up at me.

 I wonder how they got there,

Frolicking with glee,

Do they charge admission,

Waiting for a fee?

 I’m sure they are enjoying

Their life that’s so carefree,

Tiny little fishies

Swimming in the sea.

At Close of Night

At Close of Night

By Craig Miyamoto, c. 2005

I talk with you at close of night

As Sandman beckons you,

It fills my heart with happiness

And pleasant deja vu.

The words are few, though meaningful,

They mostly come from me,

But in my heart I know you hear,

On this we shall agree.

I cannot emphasize enough

How having you appear,

Gives me unbridled happiness

To see my darling dear.

There is a glowing deep inside

That grows each passing day,

And brightens up considerably

Our togetherness bouquet.

You are the flower of my life,

You are my kitten sweet,

You are the dew of morning light,

My fairy love complete.

I gift to you my evening talk

Whenever I’m with you

For thee I love, my dearest one,

Our joy we doth renew.

(I don’t remember when I wrote this poem, but it must have been about five years ago, probably one day when I was a reflective mood.)

I Love the Rain

I Love the Rain

By Craig Miyamoto, October 2004

I love the rain, it cleans our world,

It freshens the heart, it give us new meaning

To live the way we were meant to be –

Full of energy, full of nourishing thoughts.

I’ve encountered rain that washed away the soil,

And yet I felt that nothing was lost.

For the liquid that it provided every piece of dirt

Gave it life, gave it hope, gave it meaning.

I’ve watched as mist floated down the crest

Of the valley, the foot of which shelters my home.

It created a rainbow that arced the heavens

And showed me the path to God’s loving heart.

I’ve watched as it swept by hard and flat,

And the rains of hurricane pelted my home.

But I’ve snuggled safely inside with hopes

And knew that this torrent would pass me by.

I’ve shivered as rain froze and pelted

Upon my jacket, ironically in desert,

The frigid sting cut through the fabric

And tingled my spirit that warmed within.

I’ve closed my eyes and felt the warm rain

As it bathed me, I lifted my humid arms

To embrace God’s gift that filled my eyes.

It cuddled me deep and gave me its name.

Like rain, the love that we feel for another

Just appears as if by magic to nourish us deep.

To her, I give praise and comfort and ease,

And I reach out, embracing the rain of her heart.

(I wrote this poem on a drizzly day, after retrieving my morning newspaper from the puddled driveway, wiping off my glasses, and drying my hair.)

Under His Cherry Blossom Sky

Under His Cherry Blossom Sky

By Craig Miyamoto, 2005/2010

Our thoughts daily wander under His cherry blossom sky,

Their pinking petals floating earthward from above,

Settling on our sleeves like miniature silken dragon scales,

Caressing cheeks with a glistening opalescent nacre.

Fluttering wings of softness brush against our hearts

And embrace our souls with airy feathery flowers.

Their touch lifts us high above His cottony clouds

And when we nap, they light upon our slumbering eyes.

And lo, His beauty puts the blossom sky to shame

He lights the heavens with the beauty of His smile.

While over us we watch the woolen pillows echo

His countenance, His thoughts, His beauteous name.

What beauty is found twixt boughs and foliage green

That hold the secret thoughts of our loving hearts

In velvet pouches clutched close to heaving breasts

And shared through Him as pale hues coast across the sky.

And so He stands above the pink, amongst the blushing glow,

Our fingers lovingly entwined, sharing deep unspoken thoughts,

Exchanging touches, gazes, giving the gift of quiet whispers –

For this is His time, His life, His cherry blossom sky.

(I wrote this poem in 2005, on a beautiful Spring day in Hawaii, and revised it this Easter morning.)

Our Footprints

We left our footprints on the sand,
Impressions there from where we stood,
From whence our arms embraced and held
Each other’s comfort when we could.

The sun-drenched waters tumbled in,
They bathed with cooling, kind content
To give us balance from the warmth
That burned within from passion spent.

Our lips were soft as eider down
So warm and loving, giving pause
And tightly held our gentle touch
To grace Poseidon’s sweet applause.

The footprints moved, continued on,
They brought us to another place,
They pressed our markings on the sand
Then disappeared without a trace.

How fleeting are those memories
Impressed there on the sands of time,
Reassigned within our souls
To live inside our hearts sublime.

We left our footprints on the sand,

As we moved onward, hand-in-hand.

I remember writing this poem in 2006 upon reflecting about how quickly our lives pass through the years, and how it's important that we act immediately on what we intend to do or we'll never get another chance.

The Baby in My Arms

I held the Baby in my arms the day that He was born,
He smiled at me as if He knew the joy in me that morn.
I watched them sing Emmanuel to Baby from the loft,
Filling Heaven’s songs of love, beautiful and soft..

I felt His love within my breast, close to beating heart,
And heard the herald’s trumpets sound, their happiness impart.
A touch upon my shoulder by blessed Mary Mother
Told the presence on this day, of the Baby’s Holy Father.

This Baby, He was born to us, so we might find a world
Of joyful peace and promises, hopes and dreams unfurled.
With tears that sparkled from within, a swelling deep inside,
He filled me with a growing hope, with shining, rising tide.

The Baby slept in my embrace, peaceful slumber eyes,
Dreaming prayers, giving us His wishes in disguise.
A star beamed down upon the Child, illuminating all,
Beckoned royals bearing gifts, responding to its call.

I held the Baby in my arms, He gave me all I need.

I wrote this poem on Dec. 21, 2004, in a moment of Christmas spirit. It lay tucked away in a document file until today, when I was thinking of my new grandson and remembered that I'd written this.

Rejoicing!

My love gave me her heart today;
It rested in my lasting touch
And filled my smile; I felt it weigh
Within my hand’s abiding clutch.
Luminescent scarlet glowed;
It sparkled, shimmered flecks of light,
A countenance at once bestowed
Mere symphony of thoughts so right.

My love gave me her heart today;
She gave it with conditions none.
I press it to my chest and pray
It will remain when day is done.
The heat it gives will warm my own
And banish all that interfere,
No longer she or I alone
Shall tread the paths that will appear.

My love gave me her heart today;
She touched her lips upon my cheek,
Her hand caressed, a warm display
Of kindness, caring so unique.
It’s endless, oh this joy I feel,
It leaps, it dances, and it sings!
My beaming smile cannot conceal
The happiness her gift it brings.

My love gave me her heart today …

I wrote this in 2003 when I was in a happy mood.

My Summer Mist

How gentle doth she kiss my cheek and moisten to the touch,
Creeping close to filter through and rest on forest floor.
She whispers with a touch of silk, beyond my eager ears,
A song of love sought long ago with questions to explore.

With shuffling and slackened pace, I feel my summer mist
Reflect the light from higher up to bring her beauty nigh.
She reaches out and kisses me until she feels me quiver,
Then touches fingertips of love upon my sleepy eyes.

A rainbow arcs across the branch to herald her approach
I lift my face to welcome her, inviting warmth of kiss.
Embracing thought, emotions deep, there is no other one
Refreshing thirst, reliving life – my lovely summer mist.

I wrote this poem in March 2006 on a chilly and rainy day, and experimented with rhyming just the second and fourth lines of each stanza.

A Winter Feather’s Touch

A winter feather fell from sky, meandering its course
Defined by breath and happenstance, with others from the source.
It caught the crystal brilliance with diamond glory flush
And paused to rest within a wisp, then lifted with a rush.

I held her there in soft embrace,
I looked into her eyes,
She smiled at me and gave me hope,
A symphony of sighs.

Soft down of Heaven so unique, a messenger, a dove,
A feather born of Earthly dew, created high above.
Then touched emotion, passion deep, and goodness from His hand,
It left its home and twinkled down, to destination land.

I felt the snowflakes on my face,
I saw them on her lashes,
I heard the rushing in my heart
In heated burning flashes

Like dandelion stars at night that fill and shiver air,
It fluttered down with such delight in dark, so unaware.
A multitude it found in crowded millions of its kind
And rode the crest of winter wave, a course it did unwind.

Around us flew a sea of snow
Romantic in its splendor
They spoke to us and lifted hope,
Encouraging surrender.

The feather joined the drifting deep that blanketed the world,
And nestled there among the bank, its crystal arms unfurled.
Its journey over, now complete, the winter feather lay
With dreams of lovers standing near, in perfect end of day.

Our lips, they felt the icy tingles
Then pressed in loving bliss,
We melted in each other’s arms
And shared the pure snow kiss.

(I wrote this poem in 2006 after seeing news coverage of a late-spring snowfall on television.)

You Are ...

A happy thought that brightens mind,
A smile that warms the face,
A jewel hidden I must find,
A song to mark my place.

A gentle touch that soothes the soul,
A whisper that I long for,
A presence that will make me whole,
A hand to open door.

A crystal drop that lights my heart,
A shiver of emotion,
An emptiness when we kiss and part,
An ocean of devotion.

(I wrote this little poem in November 2005.)

The Treasure Light

I crawled into a cave one day and found a battered box,
It lay among the leaves and moss, fast bound with rusted locks.
The chest lay heavy on the ground, dug deep throughout the ages,
With stories saved within its strength, and deepness in its pages.

It budged so slightly at my pull, it moved a single inch,
I tugged with sinews in my back; I felt my muscles pinch,
I vowed to bring it to the light, discover what’s inside,
The rocky ledges difficult, I would not be denied.

Through strain and sweat and even hurt, I slowly reached the day,
Worked to break the frozen locks, to view without delay.
With mighty heave, the cover gave a groan as hinges creaked,
With beating heart and shaking hands, I bent forth for a peek.

Expecting gold and diamonds, I moaned my sad dismay,
For nothing such did greet my eyes, nothing would allay.
I rummaged in the empty box, found only dusty paper;
It may as well be broken glass, it may as well be vapor.

I sat back on my haunches, leafing through the words,
All my strength sapped from within; then suddenly I heard
A voice that whispered from my heart, it said to look some more,
Within myself, connect the box with something in my core.

I found the book, ‘twas hidden deep, its cover broken worn,
Its pages brown and fragile, its binding crumbled torn.
It opened of its own accord, a glow came from within,
A single phrase revealed itself – it made me stop and grin.

“I love you,” did it simply say; “I love you” said it there,
An ageless phrase that lovers speak, and deep emotions share.
A tear or two ran down my cheek, for now it all made sense,
Who needs the wealth to substitute? Who needs that recompense?

The treasure box is but our heart, the gem inside is love,
The gold is light that shines within, with softness of a dove.
But love does not come easily, it needs a focused tending,
For if we hold the other dear, rewards are never-ending.

(I wrote this one day in 2005 when I was in a reflective mood.)

The Butterfly

How lovely the scent that wafts in the breeze – 

It beckons the butterfly, whispers, “Oh please 

Come partake of this wonderful nectar inside, 

Brush wings on petals, you won’t be denied.” 

Consumed by the need to probe for the sweet, 

The Monarch will hover, decision complete, 

Committed to tasting the flavor desired,

A tongue flickers forth, its mission inspired. 

Diaphanous touches cause dew to release, 

Soft brushings of wings on petals increase. 

Light as a feather on precipitous perch, 

It sighs in relief, having ended its search. 

The petals of rose spread wide and suggest 

A union of flower and butterfly blessed, 

Lo, the butterfly drinks through petals a-quiver 

In concert with wings that shimmer and shiver. 

I am the butterfly, she is the flower, 

We meet in the garden, in pale misty shower 

That kisses the cheek and moistens the eyes, 

Then parting, I lift myself back to the skies. 

(I wrote this poem in 2004 one night when I was in a very good mood.)

Pearls of the Sea

Diamonds are nice, they sparkle like ice;
They show off their fire, they inspire desire;
They come from below,
Compressed and deep,
Hidden from view
Their secrets they keep.

Emeralds are green, their beauty serene;
They give off a glow, they just seem to know
That we love to have
What they offer today –
Inspiring our words,
Fulfilling our play.

Rubies burn bright, they heat up the light;
Scarlet, cerise … they draw us with ease
Into magic romance
Of silver and gold.
While images promise
And wonders behold.

But pearls – oh the pearls.

Pearls have a luster that transcends the cold,
An essence of shimmer and global perfection;
Created by Him from natural life
To inspire emotion and inner reflection.

Far deep in the brine their colors do hide –
Pure white as the clouds, pink as the rose,
Black as the night, blue as the sky …
Their glory so secret, ‘til found they repose.

When brought to the light, a pearl will reveal
Its innermost beauty, its special appeal.
I’ve seen what it offers, I love what I see –
My lady, my pearl, my loving … and me.

(I wrote this in 2004, at a time when I was buying loose gemstones on eBay.)

Omnipresence

I see You in the world surrounding me,
You fill my soul with wonder every day.
It is as though You want us all to know
How wonderful the beauty You convey.

I see You in the branch that reaches out,
Supportive of the leaves that gather light.
You bring the nourishment to all who want,
Work never ends from dawn to quiet night.

I see You in the rock that lies beside
The dusty road that carries me to Thee.
So full of strength on which Your home is built,
You resolutely hold the humble key.

I see You in the cloud that tumbles by,
The pure white softness simply melts my heart.
Like cotton rolling ‘cross an azure sky,
Your smile sustains me when we are apart.

I see You in the drop of rain that falls
To splash upon my face when it turns high.
You kiss my cheek and bring a smile to fore,
Your drops elicit such a sweet reply.

I see You in the golden sun that dawns,
And passes o’er me as the day does age.
When Sol turns crimson at the end of day,
I close Your book and mark the future page.

I see You everywhere in everything
That You’ve created for Your children to share.
I see You when my eyes do gaze upon
Most anything appearing anywhere.

(I wrote this poem in 2004.)