we go driftiiiiing and soundiiiiing
like human flutes
played by the winds of desire.

gusts of life
tossed in all directions -
garrulous gales swinging us upward
hanging us upon a mighty bough-
blustery blasts
laying us cold and flat
burying us face down
upon deserted sands.

each flute
must be individually
whittled and worn
from barks and branches
of nature's own toil -

the flute maker sleeps soft and sound
waiting to give us a gentle breeze
to send us forth
into movements that spiral and spin -

learning to play
dawns slowly within
heralding the commencement
of a magical mystery
that for eternity
always just begins.

© charlie elkind 4/1999

Peacefulness hangs like a cloud
delicate and serene
from soft threads of mind
sewn with silk;
a carefully composed canopy
of unspoken thoughts.

Peacefulness rides in with utter simplicity
woven from silvery sedate waters
crested by calm;
like a sailboat on silent seas
dusted in solitude
filled with simple sounds

© charlie elkind 11/14/1999

the letters
on the pages of the book
sitting before me
are all backwards.
they contain secret sentences
and silent signs
that must be read
from the other side.

I circle around
and climb
through an open window
looking for a
backward dictionary
of lost words.

I find the engraver
sitting by a pregnant pool
waiting for the next
swimmer to arrive.
we both bow
and jump together
into waters of foreign meanings
and pools of forgotten phrases.  

we now live
with those weighed words
etched upon our inner foreheads
allowing any and all
who dare to share
to be swallowed whole
and decidedly decipher    
those cryptic scripts
of we
of he
and she
and back to we.

© charlie elkind 10/17/99

A tiny tick kissed my blood --
like Judas at his last supper
he feasted long and full
eating into crevices
of my muscles and mind.

He left an uninvited guest,
a sacrilegious spirochete,
that viciously feasted
at the formerly arranged table
of my heart and health.

This unwanted outsider
made himself a hearth and home,
muscling his way into my joints --
tumbling, tossing and rearranging
my inner furniture.
He left my external shell
in a worn and weary state,
painting my house
in rude colors of disrepair.

Although I hope he's left;
his remnants and shambles
faintly remain,
clustered within hidden corners,
his presence still clouding my windows
as I struggle to look out.

© charlie elkind 11/25/2000

Pray for what you can not see.
Pray clearly
for what you can only faintly grasp.
Pray silently
from the core of your being.
Pray for healing.
Pray for humanity.

Pray lovingly
Pray deeply ---
pray so deeply that
the prayer and the praying
become one.

© charlie elkind  ....... Sept. 2001
( see this poem on the world prayer site
at )

My little puppy chewing his way
into my heart
while nibbling on my sleeves.
Gnawing his way to the bones
toying with emotions
running around
having a ball of a time.

© charlie elkind 2/5/99
Seeing Through it All

Looking out the window
my eyes are glassed-over
one with the pane.

© charlies elkind

speak to us god, speak --
what's hidden behind
your whitened mask
and darkened shadows?
a million faces and statues
with healing balms
pressed upon their lips
blended into one kiss,
a silent chorus
of hummed oneness
dipped in subtle fragrances
that dance and circle
in a soundless song of the Absolute.

talk to us god, talk
where is your voice
where is your voice not heard
your silent voice
that moves oceans
heats the sun
sweeps through air
and rubs between our fingers
as we wash our hands
and change our face.

our ears rest
lightly against
the membrane of infinity
and all we hear
is a heartbeat,
like the fluttering
of bird wings,
it's the sound of the
universe breathing in
the sound of the
universe breathing out
closing and opening
like eyelids
viewing worlds
viewing worlds within worlds
while repeatedly turning
timeless wheels
within wheels.

© charlie elkind

Days and Nights of Cosmos'
marching ever onward
unifying us all
within the continuous
beating of our breath.

A panoramic procession
of evolutionary races and rounds
marching and circling,
turning in time --
a celestial clockwork
mirrored in the mundane.

Levels of face masks and fields
created and destroyed --
its central intention
constantly, consciously emanating
its fixtures and forms.

From naught
a vastness slowly uncurls --
its harmony and architecture
stretching our minds
as we learn its language
of method and metaphor
of logos and light. --
we live moved
within a mystery,
speaking a multitude of words
secretly, sacredly
as one.

© charlie elkind 02/02/2001
Charlie's Poetry - Page 3