...Quiet Thoughts from a falling Leaf...me

All writing and Photos
Shared here are written, photographed
& owned by me.

Daniel J. Smith

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A Note-


These are out-takes so far from a project I am working on -

from my own personal expierience~

A book of thoughts and moments and My images 

Gardens Of  Days...

Gardens of  Days

Slip through the ivy gates
into the past tense
of thoughtfully planted living moments

Where tender shoots rise up toward new light
And brittle leaves tumble downward
to soften a footfall
into a quiet hush .

Safe and familiar labyrinth
Feels like, how home smells
Beckoning to its human perennials
a return over and over-

 For inside its shadowy paths
We learn the secrets
ponder to the how and why

 it speaks a Deep-rooted calling
 from distant existences
And voices whisper up
Like a cricket in harmony with the cicada
Reminders from darker days
We had to visit ,to walk our own
from the blood and mud underfoot

Scent of earth and grass, 
per-fumy drying petals of beauty
Now circulate through these winding walks
Breeze that ushers us down
 the darkening but mysterious path
thick with vines and chirping and buzzing

I could be drawn here eternally
forever to just lay inside
Under the old low thickets
limbs of the oak tangles of sea grasses
and sleep peaceful while guarded safe
In your embrace..
Nestled in your faithful arms

As the waters gently lap
rhythmically against ancient shores
 …Just let me go when its time again .
To become and  to be aware.
Awakened anew.
And to be able to remember the thoughts,
The loves and the lessons

I am grateful 
to have been washed in



Downward at times 

Im falling
this human coil

hear a far away voice- 

calling out, helping

.. I do know you're there...

I've never doubted it-  much
at times I hear you in my thoughts..., 

sense you in my life's actions 

and words..even the bitter.

I still feel you in my heart.. 

Holding me in your hand. 

when I've fell.. the 3rd time

Omni present -and Bright.
Especially when i struggle...

Lift me up to your light
through these tree tops high
a place to be one again

real and pure

Thank u for not giving up on me, 

and reminding me why
 I am...still here
. you are Grace.

Daniel Smith



Headed out

Once more alone ...

but now, in secret,

I Tied a red, thin thread to you

Then around my brave heart.
Connecting me as I fall away,

A distance that takes the
breath from my chest..
Back to where I come from,
Like a red line on a map,
Tracing the road from here to there,
me to you,

this long and twisting red line
as a vein travels back to its source,
unraveling into forever,
drops of learning and sharing
deep things , as red as blood
as I am strung to your soul.
Time and space, between, expanding

Too fast.,. thinning,
This invisible red line,
a magical kind of heart energy'

as I travel away;
through dark nights to my home,
stretched threadbare,
to its limits ,this only thing ,
connecting us..
it is scaring me, the distance so great,

like telephone lines that connect
over oceans of dark waters
only our small voices.
And Red lines vibrating
across the wide land, hopeful

bringing my flow to yours,
currents of energy,
criss-crossing these broad lands
between our bodies,
memories fading
as though just a fine tendril
a lock of your hair I can still smell
Still It holds me close to you

like a red satin string,
pulling loose from the edge
of my hearts cover
that was knitted
from your mouth
and unspoken promises
laid upon kisses

unraveling, as I am here
and you get, further away,
exposing my vulnerable
proud, pounding heart ,
and it is getting colder.
More frightened.

As Your silhouette fades
away to shadows
engulfed into the past
This fragile ,worn red string pulled tight,
Crossing hundreds of miles, now seems
Dangerously thin at its limits

Every new day, we are apart,

Sadly, I dig in.
holding on like hope
Anchor its end to my insides,
Tie it down like a kite string, in the wind,
A place where you took me,
to such heights.

But for now, I know you are out there,
Even if this line disappears
into the thick fog and freezing snow
dark depths of rivers crossed,

I can feel your weight on the end ...
Like a frightened fish,
I will pull it till I can find You
ok, .. on the other end,

Ready to accept me back ,
And unravel your hearts need to mine.

So, for now, keep your porch light on,
so I can see it, find it
from the distance,
and with will alone
I’ll be headed out in the night,
back to your hand,
and your arms,

where we can keep warm
each other .
from the cold truth of life,
with the hearts fire
of real acceptance.
Waiting for life to be revealed
Unraveled, together…
... And entangled.

NYC 2000

11:04 PM, Aug 15, 2000 - NYC
Thick damp summer heat
infused with smells of chemicals and decay
rising upward, into my open street window
can feel the warmth of it rolling off the streets
engulfing me in its clammy moist sickness
...as so many vacant and lost faces March righteously on.
ever double timing quickly to the call of their ego's need
I can hear the desperate voice of a lone cicada
in a sparse tree on the street,
lost and wandering useless in this urban jungle,
uselessly calling out for another like him..
I feel the same at times..
and the tree, as if a white flag of surrender -it waves,
a wayward plastic bag caught on a barren twisted limb.
like a plea...constant flapping and crinkling in the wind
not at all unlike the many homeless I witness ,
heaped like rubbish bags on nearly every corner and door jam..
seemingly melting in this heat to the sidewalk.
stuck forever in this hell?
All reminding me of the Irony I see in everything
here in this city, where dreams of riches are far more important
and where lives are expendable and disposable.
..How different this reality I live now,..so for from the safe days of my youth,
when A cicadas call from near the farm pond trees,
was a sound that recalls
Home, summer love, honest Farm work,
and innocent fun in the fragrant clean grass and warm sun.
but now , here.. A melancholic reminder of A time long gone,..
a familiar perfume, I can vaguely smell ,
a distant voice calling.. like a whisper form my own past.
Yet here I am...In these Halls, sky high and steely rude.
the valley of the lost soulless..
the cicadas call calls again ,
yet drowned out by the clinking of empty liquor bottles
from late nights, fast living..
that will always haunt me, to myself
so tempting to just, deliciously drowning out the pain,
so as to feel nothing real.
reminding me of the clinking empty glass vials of morphine,
used to numb injured soldiers at war.

And me at nights end, alone again in this bar, left like a medic,
to clean them up, and back to my one room cave like apartment ,
with only the distorted mumbling voices
through the wall near my bed to keep me company..
This lonely place costs as much as a house in most other cities..
not nearly as cheap ,
As I feel at times, for my choice in Living here.
These are the thoughts that stir in me
 the need to find HOME, again
when I look in the mirror and I see my face ,
drawn and so affected,
so far from real LIVING..
far from where my heart tells me I should be
Alone and misunderstood, in this ignorant and selfish place..
where "survival of the fittest"..becomes
selling out, more than you can afford to loose
and buying up more than your share..
A place where your worth
 is in direct proprtion to your chicness and look..
too long.. I have strived to make myself fit
at any cost, out of control like blurred speeding traffic
departing into the abyss from my values ..
So you see..
to save myself.
I must go...
for me.



So much...
So what
So little
Not enough
Barely even
a touch

One day.. two
Becomes a life
Too slight..to cold
lost in the trees
and yes, you knew
No one to grow old

So much inside
Yet less to show
These cold new days
hollow days to know
with no desire returned

the few bits I have
I know too well.
now comes the snow

so low
slow go
all i know
.. need to let it go

needy ego.

Too little too offer
It's only the Outside they see
And in my chest
it's as frozen as
the winter trees

Every night
holding on, to myself
How I long
And wait so patient
for one to fit right

Hope is my song
for now . all i hear
u to see my light..
come steal me away
middle of the night
no fear

To thaw this heart
see me-For me
true love hold me tight
And set me free...

       warming the cold,
no longer apart.


ME@ 20

I am just reflecting..

remembering where I arrived here from .

All the thoughts of aging..and youth.

what I have done, learned and have seen.
years go so fast...
don't waste a minute!
I wrote this (below)-when i was younger...Above
and could still recall clearly the smells of longer days,
and tastes of things as a young man.

Moving fast, No direction,
Always speeding headlong
into the loose gravel roads of youth,
Hills and curves come up quickly,
Not prepared…
A look in the rear view,
too late to see anything,
Except the frozen look of disbelief,
on the frightened face of myself.
Once again, too late ; too fast.
silent slowmotion impact-
Strewn and shimmering in the hot sun,
Shattered glass of my world,
and dreams of the future,
Alongside twisted and torn metal of body,
still smoking,
With wheels still spinning in air,
like my ego.
And there , my soul,
lie crushed and bleeding,
in tall weeds of roadsides of youth,
better not visited.
Pulled from the wreckage, saved again
My spirit, close enough to witness,
another accident of my own ignorance.
as I come into my body again -realization..
Struggling to breath, undo the done.
Only wanting to stand,
whole and brilliant again.
I promise to myself, this time to learn.
These scars will always be,
Reminders of how far I've come
How far there is yet to travel.
This time slowly ,
Taking time to see.
To learn.
what ...whom, ~I have lost.
and will never forget.

Above Photo of me-Chicago

Suttle Giants
I touch down in a valley
where blackbirds gather on the wind,
Nomadic travels have pulled me
towards you, guided here.
with symbols, signs and numbers
ushering my path westward,
to become lost in these
suttle hills and valleys
these ghostly giants ,
watching from the distance,
keeping you here safely hidden,
like the mysterious quiet,
of the encroaching blanket fog,
Slowly carressing the orchards
and swallowing up the veiw.
cradling this ancient place, of distant ghosts ,
Hillsides rising softly, upward
Inspiring shadows and shapes of painted light,
ridges colored so pale by the coolness of the falling clouds,
enveloping their aching curves,
Making the colors of sky and earth melt into one
like new lovers, in a artists dream.
quietly grand and upward moving,
momentum of life.
these things, in these hills, of the west.
Where the distance grows
closer to seamlessness,
as your heart is to mine,
where I've been called
to feel grounded here, with you.
in your soft strong earthly arms,
mountains of ghostliness
intrigue tugging me into your valleys,
holding me tightly
side by side
to your honest heart,
wishing it never to end,
I am full inside with you,
As i had dreamed it would be.
Thank you.


Hardest Days

I've been spending too many days

hours upon hours...

Im weakening

... trying to bury my truths

from public view

seemingly always watching

through these broken windows
to my soul
i dont want you to know
this self judgement i hold onto
..need to be brave
I've trudged through backfields,
strewn with bleached bones
Of memories, secrets past.
Heart aching from the ignorance,
And mind dazed from acts of hatred.
losses of my own
All ...way to young
I have waded across rivers,
Still, Stained blood red
From battles of Ego
those who have gone before me,
giving up
Still I am confused…lost
Trying to fit in, spirit sore
From too many
mistakes of learning
Legs heavy with the weight I am to carry.
And eyes clouded with mud of expectation.
ideals ...impossible for us
I push on, making excuses,
and spitting them out
Like bitter words, through broken teeth.
Feelings akin to a leper,
It is this learning of wrongs, which will teach
In the end, Strength.
to be true

It is not so cruel,
If you become you, re-born
Safe again, in arms of honesty.
For all paths lead to truth,
To Gods Home.
Inside our own heart…
where We are ..
all ONE.

DS / 1-01

DS / 1-01

To Be Grateful...

Sometimes we all get lost in the woods...

-If you live In the Northern tier of our country, (as I do) , you no doubt have experienced the NEW ICE AGE, we have been having this past week. It has been reaching Tepms down to -25 at night and highs some days at 1' F. ! -ok, so this isn't the first time, but it seems It has been a long time! Im seriously considering the fact that Indians and cave men lived in this stuff!?? damn! It also brings to mind, Those unfortunate People who have nothing at all, and are out on the streets and My heart wishes it could do someting ...

While I was living in NYC it always amazed me , How many people were on the streets there, and how they got there, Im sure most were unfortunately there due to mental illness and need for medication (that are not affordable to them) .One time I sat down with a pregnant girl , she was 17 and had no shoes and was just staring ahead with out any expression. it was frightneng the conversation we had, about her life and losses at her young age.. I gave her what I could and made a point to pass by her corner, on the way to work daily, to check on her...Keep them in your prayers, and hopeully this cold will let up.

*Here is a poem I wrote after my talk to her that day...in 2001.

~A reminder to be grateful for all the things we have daily, that some go without everday.
Vagabond I see you in myself,
Sitting there on the cold street.
Smelling of the earth,
scars on your feet.
I see me in your eyes,
A blankness of seeing too much,
A heart too full of tears
Detached from years
without anyone's touch.
An Urchin,
living from primal needs,
Surviving on borrowed time.
As walking ghosts.
Seeing life as a scrapbook of memories,
That no-one would believe.
Except for those who have shared,
These streets with me,
Fought valiantly for their beliefs,
Held the hand of my soul…
And drank deeply from the well
of another humans heart.
As I have.

~hold on

help is on the way...Ds


Blurred eyes see through
my minds still frames
my life...
moments of our times
not seized, slip by us.
and long days continue on,
like waves to the distant sands.
away...we are carried
from shores of youth,
the places we called home
inescapable to all
as memories fade
distance grows
I fear loss..
As these things seem so small
foriegn & far away.
faces are hard to recall,
but Love still strong
as their scent lingers.

like someone else’s story
becoming heavy, like stones
worn by the tides
they weigh us to those who we shared with
the heart is a rock,
our pure love.
even if memory cannot speak it's names
like a slipping beautiful image, upon waking
these watery dreams
carrying these pages,
moments of treasure
as postcards adrift
on the surf of our convaluded past,
onto today.
one day I will recall
days shared with you.
re-read from dripping pages,
ink smeared
as I watch, YOU
lovingly and sadly,
slowly sinking downward
a once brilliant star
now barely a glimmer
of a small grey stone.
glinting up from the bottom
of this deep
murky sea
never will I forget the weight
of your impact in my life.
You will still shine forever…
like the soft worn blue glass
on the beach underfoot
bringing to me
fortunes of memories..
full of Love.
love you Grandma...

Recollection well

A dream felt
as though real
Like dipping cool clean water
From a black deep well..
Pulling it up so far..
Mists rising from
the echoing walls
of times lost

These ideas, feelings.
so precious.
as vital water.
Like life energy.
So central to survival.

One time you knew me
That now
we’ve gone beyond
Our past bodies,
like dry leaves
fallen from branches
Renewing the cycle
on the forest floor
A shift like the light,
From morning ..to night

You told me then..
In words that now
I can’t recognize
A language foreign ..
A feeling so deep
How nothing would stop .

A fading Vision
like a glimmering mirage.
I see through
this current view
make out a distant memory
Transparent and faded,
But embedded clearly
In my heart.

Similar to your face now
it was so true
And I see you ,
when I look close
Deeply in your eyes
Beyond the days before
In another time.

Lives crossed like tapestry
And woven together
from strings of hope
worn thin from time.
Yarns of pure love
entwined into the collective whole .
We embraced then
in some dark fire lit castle
Echoes of forgotten moments

…And now in this eve
On your bedroom floor
In the light of your laptop.
Your smell remains the same.
Your hands feel the same

And I recall
Only my need of you
In my life a way
As if my breath in my lungs.

That seems constant
…right and fulfilled
Good and solid

I don’t want to know the ending..
This day.
I have faith in this
Time has seen
And will be true
This has always been
My life with you. 



Old Family Tree 

There’s an old tree
Been there for all time,
roots go so deep
They hang down
into the morning sky

Above the place
where I was born
 into this earth
and below Where
We all will return one day.


It shape is telling, broken and craggy
But its history, more so
As it yearns to reveal
all of its precious stories

Seed brought here
From across seas rough and cold.
Years as many as its rings unfold
We, as branches sprout and reach
Toward our loves, dreams our destinies
rain washes over
like tears from joy
Watering down from heavens care.
All directions, tangled but together
And in learning they are bent
With weights of snows
Broken by winds of trials
And roots exposed by lean days

Still it stands, as we are all part
It has many scars but
Some like hearts -carved in youth,
Some of lightning,
broken hearts that tear.


It also has many leaves
 new growth
With blooms to share


Days unfolding us into the future
As we are carried on,
all a Part of its trunk
Love , a lifetime to bear.

Until the fall days when we take our turn
Falling , dry and lifeless
waiting for the long winter

Frosty were held near her bosom
until we are gathered
together all

Home at the hearth of her
warm soils we become
that feed and nurture

The next part carries on
A tree now hewn by hand 
as A cross
 for all ages and trials
bearing the weight
 of A forgiveness and sacrafice
so big
real love
Reborn anew

With hope.


  1000  Days of Longing

Lost in a heat wave
of mid July
The thick humid air

Fills my nose with scents
Of beach, seawater, sweat,
 green grass and sex
once innocent, 
fast days of warm summer 
music, food & a long lazy afternoon,

spent far from prying eyes.
On old flannel blanket
In tall grass fields

along the dusty dirt road…

nearby the sea-blue waters edge
New youthful travels..

A journey of unending,
tumultuous adventures
To yet another new destination.

Tan bodies and fine bones
With nothing to do but learn
Experience, days with time to burn

in every corner on earth, it goes on,
right now somewhere.
Hot sun reflecting on tight, slippery skin,
warm breeze releases the essence
of patchuli musk tangled in your hair.

Lost, In these tall green grass moments.
Hands wringing in anticipation,
Toes curling in ecstasy,

Mouths gaping, wide open
As if feasting,
Thirsty for this fix
Drinking it all in, taking it slow.

Love junkies..

Cigarette smoke curling upward

In darkened rooms
Filling the air with it's dry mist.

as the unspoken truths
 fall to the floor
in secret in passion

All this, and never is it enough,
To make up for
 losses gained…
Knowing that tomorrow,
This black snaking line of a road
Beckons me on again,
Calling me to travel on.
1000 more days of longing to bear..
under a sky so big, so blue
through valleys too cold, too dark
over mountains so tall.

Again, all alone…
a life too far detached ,
always longing…
for home…
for just one lasting taste,
of A single
true love.


My Vine Adapting

We are let into this field
of storms and sun,
As fruit , slowly swelling
Plumping on the vine,
The stems of our lives feeding us,
Up from the nutrients of earth,
Of People we meet -lives we touch.
Hearts we swim deeply into…
All Pulled Up from our roots,
a history we are guided from.
Our direction, apt to change
upon the environment we occupy,
need to bend and sway,
to survive, grow.
Through the thickness and brambles
obstacles that we cross,
As multi-dimentional beings.
Malleable we must be
if we are to prosper,
must always reach toward the light .
while…struggle to fight
the constant temptation
the dark urges of gravity
pulling you downward,
so easy to give in..
the power to overcome ….it molds us
we give in and conform
as much as we can stand
will we remain true ?
at times…
splitting spirit from soul
body from needs.
I revel in a day fulfilled
Doing that which makes me closer ..
To my gifts, my calling.
The cause to love fully
A drive to be whole inside and out.
Without loosing to much to change,
That I may become
unrecognizable to myself,
I pray…when the time comes
Where you reach for me,
To anchor your heart,
In my clear waters.
That then I will realize ,
This vine has found its garden
our roots will be finally quenched
and the beautiful blooms of life
unfold toward the waiting suns embrace.
Fulfilled and beautiful ,
As was promised long ago

Through Winter

We are changing ;
sometimes unseen.
a constant renewal
as a tender shoots, in the woods
wintertime takes from spirit
as we dry up and shrivel
become part of its cold embrace .
disappearing for a time
a darkened thoughtless slumber ..
and in a new day,
warmer than now..
like a magical spark
it brings forth a new unfurling arm
a kiss we never knew felt like this.
a new look at a day
in front of you
and what it can be as
holding another’s hand
love with the suns warm rays on your face
like a resurrected winter fern
now full
bloom and ready to live
in summer breezes and
full up to share
beauty within our new world
now seen after the snows melt
watering roots eager to grow.
anew together
with its past afoot
dry leaves ,like tinder
blowing around the forest floor
Dangerous reminders,
where we come from
and the birds fill the air
with song.
As I reach upward
Soaking up the love


Here I am, again…


By bus, in a car, a plane or boat..
I am here
Yet again
No matter how it goes ,
How it comes.
It always Ends.
Return to what I know well
All I know for sure, its leaving time
Familiar distance from here to home..
need to be there ..stretched thin
By people..lies..greed
and a great divide
Between my values
and their need of things ,money
satiated by lustful desire
and the accompanying lie of unauthentic..life
lived vicarious via photos
in magazine ads , secret internet, on tv .
ones of too much, nothingness ,
but we weigh our lives worth
next to the mist of created realistic falsehood.
YOU can keep up with Joneses
I’m a Smith
And am taking this exit
while I’m Still ME.
Thanks for setting my trajectory on course
It seems i was lost.
I Slammed into a dream that
Will never be.
I am real, that’s where I belong.
On my own legs and my hard working hands.
Swimming through my own life,
bike through the confusion
run down my love of things , true.
Sometimes hard things are worth the feelings
akin to wealth of joy.
Good-Bye competitive fakes –
who will never reach a real level
of honest living giving back to the whole
Yet.they pretend so well to be
Something else.
they cant see..the truth
They will never know
A calm beauty of the true
knowing and accepting

their own selves .



  1. Daniel,

    Welcome back! I don't know about anyone else, but I sure missed your posts. And this is a beautiful poem. Thank you for sharing.


  2. Wow... Powerful. Very Real, very beautiful.
    Dan HB Bezzina fb friend #1213 <---not sure of the exact #.


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