DNA

DNA (17-181C)

Hamster wheel
turns anew each day
wondering if

Tired words
from a tired man
in a tired life

Cycle in circle
loop upon loop
double helix

Bleached Bones Scattered

Bleached Bones Scattered

Close to where they fell

In stark whiteness

Red soil pocked with scrub

Where last breath breathed

Now marked with bones

Life taken away

In cycle of seasons

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet. (17-141A)

Give It Away

          Give It Away

Fractured places

Broken people

Broken relationships

Broken hope

Carrying brokenness forward

Cycles of sowing the wind

Reaping the whirlwind

Generations repeat to the next

Interpreting cycles and participation

Exchanging and giving love into broken places

Aligning with Truth of situation

Walking into the pain with salve of Father's love

Expressing Father's grace and mercy

His healing in the midst of cycles

His love while staying internally solid

Grace binds up fractured people

Love offers hope to thirsty soul

Mercy given instead of judgment

From Father's goodness received

Freely give it away

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet. (17-076A)

Pile of Shoes

        Pile of Shoes

A pile of shoes and boots

Lay in front of the door

With each passing year pile lessens

One out the nest, soon another

Pile of shoes reduced back down

To what it was when we first journeyed together

Two soles, two pairs of shoes with souls

Resting in a place we made home

A day will come when another family

Will call this farm home

Piles of shoes again will grow

Then wane in passing years

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet. (17-059B)

Seasoned

        Seasoned

             -i.-
Lilac blooms have faded,
Soft smell has given way.
Fall is ever approaching,
Now smell of corn as tassels.
Green will soon give way to brown,
Combines in fields harvesting,
Completion of springtime and harvest.
Years marked in seasons now.

             -ii.-
Seasons change,
Infant to child,
Child to adult,
Husband to lover,
Lover to father,
Back to lover and beloved.

             -iii.-
Cycles and seasons of healthy family.
Long view of choices made.
To undo and repair much energy now.
Twenty years ago minor correction yielded great harvest today.

             -iv.-
Season that compound fruit of labor,
Compounding in relationship.
Breaking, uncreating, destroying, unattaching from generations before.
Making things right.
Redemption proclaims race isn't to the swift.
A soft heart, tender with God, restores, heals, and renews.
Today is the day to begin, don't wait.
Never too late, if breath in lungs can begin.

             -v.-
Seasons of planting small steps today,
Sets into motion fruit harvested years later.
As long as have breath there is hope,
For renewal, restoration, salvation.
Today is the day to work it out.
Prepare the field, plant the seed, tend the crop.
Long view yields much fruit and legacy.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Another Day

         Another Day

Circular systems,
Returns to sender,
Information provided,
To do the work.

Instead of work completed,
By group requesting the information,
Flies around the atmosphere,
With this is too difficult can you do it for us.

What they don't realize is,
I don't care,
It's been 40 years since anyone asked,
It will be another 40 before anyone cares.

System corrupts and distorts,
All that is good in a person,
Goal appears to be keep the churn,
While nothing ever gets completed.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Roots Long Dead

Roots Long Dead

Barren trees,
Straggly limbs,
Dead fingers,
Reaching skyward.

Roots long dead,
Stand as eulogy,
Memory of dreams long past,
Cycle of life complete.

Plant anew today,
Dream again,
Nurture roots deep,
Verdant and green.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Wrestling

                       Wrestling

Wrestle in that place of incongruence,
Between good and evil and what "it" means.
My heart is good,
Yet action don't always match.

The warring of what that "means,"
About who I am.
Black and white thinking,
All good or all bad.

Interpretations and where I take them,
Choices about cycles that find self in.
Not about stopping or controlling cycles,
It's about which cycle.

Moment where choose healthy,
Moment where choose unhealthy.
Neither defines who I am or my heart,
Just expression of inner struggle

How did it get so convoluted?
Attaching value and worth to actions and performance.
Instead of attaching value and worth of who I am with self, God, and others.
That inner place where get stuck playing the event over and over.

The Ground Hog Day moments relived over and over.
Replay it until reconciled in being that just because action doesn't define me.
It doesn't define my heart.

I am more than a performance or action.
I am human, a person, a man.
I sin, fail, make wrong choices.
I am good, do right, succeed and make right choices.

I am not defined by either sin or good.
My heart is good and right with God.
I am an expression of who I Am created me to be.
Loving, caring, passionate, strong, weak, dependent, independent, attached, and connected.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.