The Crow

The crow is brother to the tree
and each is aware of the other’s presence
in a way so alien to the minds of man
that if the secret was revealed
man would go howling through the woods
with the cry of the crow
screaming in pursuit
tis true
tis true
tis true.

Crown Of Thorns

I have seen you ascend
and felt your force
in the wings of the birds in flight.
I have seen the unseen hand reach down
and carry you to unknown heights.
Trust in Him
who carries you through the clouds of unknowing.
Hear His message in silence
as the mystery unfolds
and what was known in ancient times
shall be revealed
in the ascending Crown of Thorns.

Colorless Epitaph

The shell of the turtle
stands empty in sun stretched death
adding new lines to its original design.
In backward bends the skin lends parchment
for a colorless epitaph.

Aphorisms by Howard Salzman No 25

The beauty of the empty mind
is not the absence of thought
but the presence of God.

When you speak about another person
you speak from your perspective
of that person.

He who attempts to understand
the nature of prayer
enters a paradox
for the mind is limited
and God is infinite.

To rise above it
is a spiritual statement,
to experience it
may elude you
for a lifetime.

The more you fabricate
the future in your mind
the more the present
will elude you.

Aphorisms by Howard Salzman No 24

Peace of mind is a paradox
for it is the mind that disrupts our Inner peace.

Loneliness and anger are not strangers to each other.

Internal dialogue creates a ghost
a second person to protect the ego.

The moment we verify something
we call it reality
and that which is not verifiable
is not reality
yet the unverifiable
may be reflections
of the ultimate reality.

What we know
and what we do not know about each other
is bridged by the intuitive Jump.

The Burning Eye Of The Sun

In clover gowned fields we played
untangling the vines that lay
woven in the grass
creeping after them
we tore their bodies from the ground
and tossed them, moist and cool with life
on a pyre piled high
to die in the burning eye of the sun.


A butterfly brushed across my hand
ever so gently
Then he was gone
all that was left
was a smile that lingered awhile.

The Birds

You gathered from all the corners of the Everglades,
Coming one by one,
then in clusters.
The horizons filled and darkened with your presence.
What was the mystery of your flight
that brought you in full frenzy to encircle us?
What was your message?


To think of beauty
is to intellectualize it into fragments.
To be aware of beauty
is to see it in its entirety.
To meditate on beauty
is to be one with its splendor.

Beautiful Words

I met a man who spoke of beautiful things
his mouth was filled with words like
kindness and
but when the words subsided
I could hear the violence
stirring within him.