Ten Times Purple


Red and Blue holding hands,

locked together in nature's bands.

A  girl's color, some say,

boys should not have a purple bedroom where to play, 

like a 60's kid, hair billowing and leather vests with fringe,

it's that hippie purple that sends them on a color binge,

wearing flowers in their hair, the song would say,

like petunias, on a summer garden day,

most seen in white,

so bland a sight!

the flowered pot incomplete without that lavender birth

waving from the seeded earth.

 And that sky!

What can one say?   Simply.  "Aye!"

The purple shaded sun arise raising us to deep nature knowing,

unmatched by the bleached full zenithed yellow glowing.

Call it mauve, or violet,

periwinkle, pomegranate, or plum,

whatever, by name, it invites us briefly, Come!

Lead us, Purple, on a path, oh guide,

to evening dark, bluish red in its stride.

It is Purple that welcomes us, all the same,

not once,

but ten times, we acclaim!

                                                                                                             ©2014  R.T. Saunders


Mt. Hood.jpg


Golden copper-tops draped in white,

Vast distances of color.

We propel ourselves forward...

The array a part of us;






   falls through air



             on a new

                 bed of snow.



                           its       body



Visit the Temple


butter candles.jpg

The Bodhisattvas

show the path

to altars gifted;



A thousand Buddhas

surround The One.

Fill the space;

Their presence known.


Candles aflame,

Prayers offered,


Smoke rising: Aware!



The Saints have been blessed.

They speak to us in gentle footfalls,

And bless us.

R.T. Saunders

January 2013

January 8

  7:21am - Rise



the Day.

List, To do.

Thank, Ask, Beg, Pray.

Anger, Gossip, Confide, Betray.

Eat, Spend, Delight, Receive.

Glory see.

Hurt feel.

Struggle engage.

Grasp. Hold. Release.


4:45pm – Set

New list.                                                                                            ©2013   R. T. Saunders


 Morning Mourning


of insides touched and

trauma relieved in different form,

releasing poison,

and alive,


©2013   R. T. Saunders

Eileen_with_2_drinks copy.jpg

Visiting Home

A nice day today with

My Mother.

We talk, we laugh, we share wine,

at cocktail time.

We don’t sing,

because we can’t.

We know that much!

© R.T. Saunders

May 2013