Poetry by Brion

2000
A SIGNAL TO FIND MY WAY

What comes of life,
This great and grand blur,
That beats and hums and purrs.

My memory of you is found
In this rose so white
That brightens even the darkest night.

Moonlight on the water
Oh how it can charm,
And now my heart it must warm.

Such parting was not our plan
When we loved each other so.
I miss you, I miss you please know.

My mind still reels as I ask,
Where have you gone this day?
Send me a signal so I’ll find my way.

B.K.H

 

2000
Dear Mom and Dear Dad

Once when I was but a thought in your minds,
You conceived me as a wanted child.
I am that child, not meek and not mild.
Having come to know myself and my state of mind,
There is total acceptance in my heart of hearts
For the course that I know I must chart.
While it started in your womb dear mom,
Where the first nurturing took hold in me,
It was once born that I was set free.
Those early childhood years passed in a flash.
Yet to a large extent I am a product of those times,
And do feel blessed because your tears are now cheers.
Those frailties and flaws of being human
Have lead me to such gratitude and thankfulness,
Since I know there were times I caused undo stress.

The youth becomes a light in bloom
Forever in search of the greater good,
And I always knew you understood.
From your child’s heart, thank you for my life.
How you have contributed to it is my reward.
Now with my best spirit I shall turn toward.
Because I am absolutely who I am,
There are no excuses and few regrets even today
As I shall stay the course come what may.
While lessons learned have been sometimes harsh,
They are what have lead to the growth of my spirit
And, Mom and Dad, I just wanted you to hear it.
When my earthly distance run comes to a close
My hope is that I leave a lasting legacy for all time
And venture on in pursuit of taller mountains to climb.
The greatest journey is now happily joined,
So there is no reason to be sad.
I love you Mom, I love you Dad.

B.K.H.

2001
IF IT WERE UP TO ME

If it were up to me,
Children would never be subjected to prejudice.
If it were up to me,
The planet would stand still,
. . . if it were up to me,
Until man’s inhumanity to man did cease.

If it were up to me,
Seeds of change would be cultivated in fertile soil.
If it were up to me,
No one could coast through this life.
If it were up to me,
People shall produce more than they consume.
If it were up to me,
No one exits earth before working off his or her karma.
If it were just up to me . . .
Ah, but you see, it’s not up to me.
It has to be up to you and me.
. . . But if it were only up to me . . .

B.K.H.

2001
MORE THAN A DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH

All that I have earned is found
Within my heart and mind,
And goes on with me always.

I draw upon the divine energy
To give me strength anew,
For it shall see me through.

Truly alive is my spirit,
As I evolve and grow
Even beyond into the next realm.

More than a diamond in the rough
Deserves the grand polish
In order to feel fully worthy.

The search for self may seem
Perhaps painful at times yet,
The only plan worth pursuing.

Tales of old may be remembered
As a means to accept right now,
And affirm my quiet resolve.

Bravely, I will bridge this moment
By realizing the incredible power
That is mine each and every day.

Now the degree of polish
On this diamond, my spirit,
Propels me forward and to carry on.

B.K.H.

2003
THE GAMES GODS PLAY

Oh what games do the gods vainly play
With the putty known as human clay?

This chattel that give thanks to only a few,
Seem used and abused . . . If they only knew.
Sadly, the winds of war blow worldwide once more.
I wish they’d move on because of planetary bore.
Now turmoil and terror rip mother earth apart.
Even still I pray for a clean new start.
In the twilight of this lonely planet who will pay,
And does judgment come on only one day?

Oh what games do the gods still play
With the putty known as human clay?

Pursuit of what is searched for even now
Reeks pity for anyone that would willingly cow-taw.
Maker of man, my heart you have firmly in tow
And gratitude from my spirit that can come and go.
It is, me thinks, much, much too late for most
When the unseen presumes to boldly boast.
Dam such angels that dare to play gods
Believing they can toy with us and beat the odds.

Oh what games do the gods sadly play
With the putty known as human clay?

B.K.H.

2002
WHO KNEW

The drifter lamented a moment missed
Once when he was young so long ago.
Who knew the impact of such a lost love
Until by gone moments turned to years?
At sea in search of the drifter’s soul
Brought him face to face with one fear.
Who knew the pain from his distant past
Would sadden him even to this day?
Ah, what might have been lurks some how.
Even when the past is but one’s history.
Who knew a storm still churned within
And cried out for release and understanding.

A finger pointer plays the blame game
While failing to realize a simple reward.
Who knew a wheel burrow of internal garbage
Could be dumped simply by letting go today?
Regret jumped up and bit me you may say.
Yes, perhaps that is precisely what happened.
Who knew the most important place to live
Is in the moment, yet working for a better future?
Who knew failure is in the recipe for success.
If “to think is to create,” why wait?
Action backed by passion is so powerful!
Now I know, and it’s onward and upward I go.

B.K.H.

2001
GOIN’ DOWN MEMORY LANE

When you get on down the way a piece,
Along the road of life, don’t be famous for futility.
I know, I know, but don’t go chasing windmills.
And don’t’ be lead astray by the pied piper.
Please don’t go down Coddle Canyon,
Or stop at Disjunction Junction.
And don’t be goin’ down Route 666
Saying, “The devil made me do it.”
No, no don’t turn onto . . .
Dang, where are you going?
All these detours leading nowhere.

If you’re drifting along Discontent Road,
You may want to detour down Memory lane.
Work through your past and get closure.
Once on it, look for the sign that says,
“Your freedom next lifetime ahead.”
But before you take the off-ramp to eternity,
Happily, finish your jaunt along Memory lane.
You are required to travel at the speed of life.

Then give a confident wave at the end of the road.
As you get to Lands End, near the top of the world,
lift off with great zeal and courageous confidence.
Go with the experience of entering the great and vast beyond.
Those goodbyes said all along Memory Lane,
Allow for a warm hello at the Healing Center of Heaven.
And know, you’ll be a survivor there and beyond.

B.K.H.

2002
IN FATE’S GRIP

What thinking takes place
When found in fate’s grip?
Is it fear or faith seen on your face
As you arrive at the end of this trip?
Even so, you cannot ever be late
When you’re on your way to forever.
My dear, dear one, fear not your fate
As you persevere with your next endeavor.

Since there is no great mystery
Regarding all that you have done,
Each future then becomes your history.
So never feel like you need be on the run.
As you are mindful of the greater good,
Please accept your journey in fate’s grip.
Our comfort is to know you understood.
So, dare to take off and begin the next trip.

B.K.H.

2000
The following poem was written for and to honor Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross who pioneered and helped to bring Hospice to the U.S. Brion met Elisabeth in 2000 when she agreed to write the Introduction to his book, When The Rose Fades.

SOON I WILL

Soon I will travel at the speed of light.
A tremendous journey, not a plight.
Soon I will see those who’ve gone before.
And then travel on to see so much more.

Soon I will be an angel on high.
To get there I realize I must die.
In my mind, on this, I shall be clear
As the end of my earthly life draws near.

Soon I will experience my soul being set free,
Like a butterfly, even still, I will be me.
Soon I will go from the seen to the unseen
And shall discover this reality is not a dream.

Soon I will feel my heartbeat cease.
I am ready for my soul’s release.
For it is with this gift so grand
I shall take the Great Hand.

Soon I will sow immense, unconditional love
By watching over each precious dove.
Soon I will accept my moment to depart,
Because I know it’s simply my new start.

B.K.H.

1980
THE VOICE THAT ASKED TO BE HEARD

I heard, “Do you want to listen?” I said, “I think it’s time!”
the Voice then said, “On the ladder of life you are between
the first and second rung.” “How many do I have to climb?”
said I. And the Voice said, “You don’t, but by your own
choice your climbing shall go on forever.” The Voice
continued, “In days past you have proven your ability,
in the face of adversity on both personal and public problems,
to make the hard decisions. You have seen success and you
have seen failure. One admonition offered heart to heart and
spirit to spirit is this: If you truly reflect you will see that you
have at times given up on yourself by doubting your capacity
to carry you to the completion of some projects in your young
life. Do you agree?” I said, “Yes, that is a fact of life I am facing.”
the Voice then said, “That is a step in the right direction and
your goal should be constancy.”

It seemed like the conversation went on for hours.
I didn’t remember everything said, but did recall hearing,
“If you remember nothing else from this conversation
let it be this: YOU ARE YOUR OWN PROBLEM,
AS YOU ARE YOUR OWN ANSWER! What you do
determines where you are on life’s ladder.
Lastly, as you climb, keep a hand out to help
those below you and there will be, from the
rungs above, a hand out to help you.”
I remember saying, “The wealth of your words
shall truly help me always. Thank you.
One day we must talk again . . .”

B.K.H.

1973
TO THE GODDESS IN THEE

You hold a flower in your hands
And might ponder future plans?
But now, let it be now my love,
As the sun shines brightly above
Where nature does abound,
Listen, listen to every sound.
Believe the scene you do see
And rejoice in its quiet serenity.
Don’t ponder too long about what was
In order to rise above the world of Uz.

And now, let it be now my love,
As I hand to Thee this dove,
Because you are faithful and kind,
Do know it’s happiness we can find.
And if a whisper you should hear,
‘Tis only me wishing you were near!
Should tomorrow be too soon my love,
Let the goddess in Thee come from above.
B.K.H.

1981
MY FRIEND

I do reckon you are my very best friend,
And it’s happy memories that you lend.
When I am gone, and if you should yearn,
It is this that I would have you learn:
Life is so much a matter of problem solving,
And is best done while this world’s revolving.

It’s fine to enjoy happy memories of the past,
If you remember that they fade all too fast.
My friend, life is for us to genuinely live,
Knowing we gain far more when we give!
So don’t hold back and don’t hold still,
Because love flows, believe me it will!

Always, miles are conquered by true spirit.
Please, will you please endear it!
My friend, of you forever shall I be aware,
And thus never doubt that I truly care!
So smile, take one step and then take two,
Because I will only desire the best for you!

B.K.H.

1982
First Poem Brion wrote upon losing a loved one.

ONE TRANSITION

Though I now look upon the old you
And feel an immediate sense of loss,
I realize the future must now
Command your spirit’s utmost attention.
Day by day, until we meet again,
Search that great vastness
With courage and determination.
We must believe you will be all right.
After all, this is something each of us must do.
Though you have now gone ahead,
One day I will catch up and embrace
The new you and I will know then
That life really does go on . . .
Should you check back now and then,
I hope you find me with a smile
Upon my face and happiness
In my heart . . . seeking light and
Love as the path to a brighter future.
Remember, with beauty and balance as
Your armor, you will be blessed by rapid growth.
Farewell dear friend . . . God’s speed.

B.K.H.