Tuesday, December 28, 2021

"Snowfall Observations"



 "Snowfall Observations"

Greg Budig 2021


Ice crystals 

turn the afternoon 

into morning. 

Clusters of delicate 

ice patterns fall.

An atmosphere created 

of silence and memories.

I close my eyes and 

become part of it all. 


Transfixed by the 

rhythmic white patterns.

Mesmerized I follow 

the hypnotists chain.

Lulled into a peaceful 

childlike slumber. 

Remembering what 

it means to feel 

peaceful again. 


A sterile white 

contrast against the 

twisted black branches. 

Softening the edges of 

the sharp granite stones. 

Filling in the sidewalk 

that circles the block. 

Covering the roof of each

neighborhood home. 


Sitting in my chair I 

gaze through the glass. 

Window cracked slightly 

to let in the cool air. 

It smells of snow 

and lightly sweet 

wood smoke. 

I can close my eyes 

and see myself there. 


The End 








Friday, December 24, 2021

"Lights in the Darkness"

 


"Lights in the Darkness"
Greg Budig 2021


Candles glow against

the white lace patterns. 

Frost has formed on the 

smooth window panes.

The winter solstice arrived

without any notice. 

It is the dead of winter 

and rightly so. 


A season of lights 

has evolved from 

this darkness. 

Strung from the rooftops 

and evergreen boughs, 

multicolored illuminations 

surrounding the windows. 

Keeping the chill away. 



All are asleep as you 

sit by your window. 

In the early black morning 

you set a candle ablaze. 

You stare all alone in into 

the snow covered darkness,

until you see down the 

street, another candle is born.


The emptiness of the night 

stares through the window,

leaving you to wonder

if the sun will return. 

Huddled together we 

hold hope in our hearts.

Looking for lights 

in the darkness outside. 


The End 









Monday, October 25, 2021

"What Do You Believe?"



"What Do You Believe?"

Greg Budig 2021


What do you believe in 

on this magical 

Halloween night?

That there are goblins 

on the rooftop and that 

witches soar in flight?


That a family of 

spooky vampires are

living right next door?

Or that a friendly, fat 

spider is crawling 

across the floor?


That the black and 

twisted autumn trees will 

soon burst into life?

Or that Frankenstein's 

monster is out looking 

for his wife?



Are the candle burning 

Jack-o-lanterns glowing 

in the shadows?

Does the witches black 

cat follow everywhere 

that she goes?


Do the ghosts of 

lost spirits simply 

come to earth to play?

Do they frolic until 

morning and then wish 

that they could stay?


Would you stand beneath 

the bright full moon and 

howl to your delight?

It all depends on 

what you believe on this

magical Halloween night!!





The End 








Saturday, October 16, 2021

"A Poet's Ear"

 


"A Poet's Ear"

Greg Budig 2021


A lyrical voice 

with a magical tone. 

Listening to life 

through a poet's ear.


A special cadence 

and rhythmic feel. 

Listening to life 

through a poet's ear.


Sentences borrowed. 

Sentences said. 

Listening to life 

through a poet's ear.


Playing with words as 

they go through your head. 

Listening to life 

through a poet's ear. 


The sound of distant voices 

that travel through the air. 

Listening to life 

through a poet's ear. 


 Starting to wonder if there's 

really someone there. 

Listening to life 

through a poet's ear. 


A far off train whistle 

fades away and dies. 

Listening to life 

through a poet's ear. 


See it again clearly by 

just closing your eyes. 

Listening to life 

through a poet's ear. 


The End 



Friday, September 10, 2021

"Flight of the Swans"



 
"Flight of the Swans"
Greg Budig 2021


Alistair sits on a

lonely bare hillside.

He's surrounded by

the shadows of his

 black and gray world. 

He thinks about adventure,

but he often feels afraid.

He stares into the darkness

and the darkness stares back. 




He wasn't always

like this... then he

began his doubts.

Maybe life wasn't as

simple as it seemed?

Grounded by insecurities,

afraid to spread his wings,

he could feel himself

being slowly left behind.


He felt stranded on an

island of his own creation.

Alone in a world where

nothing will ever change. 

A life of farm chores

and going to school.  

Of learning about places

that he will never see. 



Each day he travels
down the worn,
gravel farm roads.

 Kicking up stones as he

trudged his way home.



Another day stuck

in the lonely brick

schoolhouse. Another 

day of staring at the 

clock on the wall. 


Surrounded by frustration.
Alone in his daydreams.

He wonders about life

and all there is to see. 

His father once told him,

"You never know where

life will take you.

So just keep your eyes open

and be ready for it to change. "



And then one
night after dinner
was over, he went 

for a walk through 

the low rolling hills.

He climbs to the top 

of the highest dark hillside

and stares into the distance 

as far as he could see.




When high up above
him came a sound
that was ancient. 

Like the haunting cries 

of a lost warrior tribe. 

Voices of spirits that rode 

the north jetstream. 

From far away places 

that he had never seen. 



The call of the swans 

drifts high from the distance. 

It was mournful and longing.

It was wild, it was free.



Above him they
appeare like ghosts
through the darkness.
There are hundreds 
and thousands of white 

outstretched wings!



Their trumpeting song
lit a flame deep inside him!!
He raised up his eyes and
could again clearly see!!


He wished he could fly

so he could reach

out and join them. 

He now knew

it was time to shed

his fears and be free!



His spirit was returned

by a thousand swan voices.

His troubles carried away on

their massive white wings.

He smiled as his world

began to open up before him.




And as his father once

told him... "You never know

where life will take you.

So keep your eyes open and

be ready for it to change!!"




The End




Monday, August 23, 2021

"This Wasn't Norway"




"This Wasn't Norway"
Greg Budig 2021


Gravel roads wind 

passed forgotten farms.

Remnants of dreams 

started before you and I 

traveled this way. 

This wasn't Norway

they all said...

but it will do. 

 


The prairie was settled 

by dreamers and fools. 

Desolate and flat like 

an unbroken slate. 

Breaking the sod and 

calling it home. 

Casting their dreams 

to the relentless wind. 


A horizon that never 

really seemed to end. 

Surrounded by tall grasses, 

glacial rocks and the sky. 

Unlimited possibilities 

and never ending toil.

Setting their roots 

on the prairie. 


Distance was everywhere as 

they gazed across the plains. 

Changing the landscape,

trying to make it theirs.

Immigrants settled the 

endless vast prairie. 

This wasn't Norway...

but it will do. 


The End