In the leaves changing

some people see

only the winter

about to haunt their lives

in the autumn storm

some people hear

only the change

that will soon fill their home with cold

in the rapidly shortening days

some people feel

only the melancholy

of depression

that always comes to visit

at this time of the year

the thoughts

that remain unspoken

the questions

that no one answers

the fingers of pain

that carry on scratching

against a canvas of skin

already full of scars

will anyone be there

to walk with the forgotten through the valley

of temptation

will anyone remember

those suffering

with sicknesses unseen

will anyone reach into the silence

of those tormented by memories

they are afraid to reveal

when the snow begins to swirl

around the torn clothing of those beaten by life

will you light a fire



What is out there beyond the couch

beyond the babbling of the television

what treasure might be found

if we started searching

beyond what we already know

how can we learn

if we are content in the warm bath of what we want to be true

how can we grow

if we aren’t willing to challenge what we are

and crave the commands

of a narcissist who knows better what we should do

why is the world on the brink of famine

while our leaders want to reduce the amount of food that is grown

is there an answer to this question

are we more afraid of asking

or of finding out the truth

are we avoiding the mirror

because we don’t want to see who we really are

or the reality of the world where we live



If my eyes are focused on the darkness

will I ever see the light

above me

if my head is swimming in the trivial

will I ever find room for truth

inside me

if my heart is full of fear

will I ever find the courage to love

those around me

is there any value in the hope

that turns my eyes toward heaven

is there any silver in the truth

that can change my life

is there any gold in the love

that gives me the faith to live



Serenaded by bird calls

and the song of letters

we linger

in the jungle of adventure

tangled in the words

twisting like the vines

silhouetted in the sunrise

exploding before our eyes


we are hopelessly lost

according to the world

living without hope

we went missing

according to the world of war

we have yet to miss

but what if we have finally found

what we really needed all along

when we went wrong

(according people who don’t know what’s right)


the sound of an oasis

bubbles as water from a fountain

washes over our bare feet

at rest




Kelvin Bueckert

Kelvin Bueckert

Lives and writes on the plains of Manitoba, Canada…he is an actor, writer, and has also been known to peddle books on his website…