Tempest rest

I smell you 

in the rain

your breath

is the steam

rising from the soil

still hot from the afternoon sun

it whispers my name

in between lightning strikes

and rolling thunder

the constant tap

of the falling raindrops

on my skin

is your heartbeat

syncing with my own

the wind flows through me

I am the tree

you are my storm

 

Wet what

whether in weathered

rain or ocean deep

or standing against

the river water rush

it drips, it drowns

it pulls it all away

it pressurizes in

its silent dark depths

and flows through all

the inner streams

it is the glass

calling for a sip

it is the fog that

blurs reality's sight

it is the ice that bites

and the steam that stings

it is the stirring in

the sky that inspires

children to see things

other than what they are

it is the vast sea that 

keeps people apart only

to incite them to

take the journey across

it is the tapping 

on the windows

or the tears from the

windows of the soul

Nice trip?

those thoughts 

tripped and fell

and were lost

to the cracks

in the sidewalk

to that world

where ants dig

out after down

pours of rain

where weed

seeds gather

and create a

micro climate

amid scorching

suns in July

those thoughts

can only be 

found again 

through use of

a screwdriver

and patience

 

Idling

the value of nothing

is priceless

yet doing nothing

is something

allowing what

will be is silencing

the will in

the great emptiness

of choosing

not to choose

it's surrendering the will

to the one who gave it

everything and anything

will always find nothing

for there is inertia in

both stillness and movement

and the void will not

last long

Trusting the process

I can feel it

every time

I'm reminded

that all of it

isn't just a

figment of

some dream

that all the

signals and

all the little

crumbs that

someone has

left along the

trail are true

they are all

guidance on

my path to you

 

Other than just now

somewhere in the outer

orbit the stardust glimmers

somehow inside you that

same stardust glimmers

sometime that stardust

will return to the outer orbit

somewhere in the peripheral

the light shines brightest

somehow the brightest light

comes from within you

sometime you will learn

to let that light shine out

somewhere just out of reach 

the sweetest music plays

somehow the sweetest music

resounds from within you

sometime everyone will hear

the sweetest music from you

somewhere, somehow

sometime other than just now

is the moment that has

been waiting forever for you

Tarot ho!

buried at the bottom

of the grave isn't

the body of her husband

but the widow weeps still

deep within the earth

rests a ship within

a glass bottle sealed

in wax sealed in soil

crystal sings from glass

that encases the sails

as three cards are pulled

hermit, magician, fool

the crystal cracks as

earth rises and winds blow

and from the sea is seen

a smile from a not so strange stranger

 

What does it spell

a green light glimmers

off bronze glazed skin

in a pool of gold stones

and blue colored gems

Mushika lays at the feet

of an elephant divine

who's flanked by tarot

and a spent cone of pine

the scales hold the cusp

of bull and twins energy

weighing the gravity

of true destiny's synergy

under the upcoming moon

in the blue archer's time

will the ship finally sail

to a dime and another dime

20/20

these two eyes

one sees from the soul

the other's vision

comes from the mind

they cross when 

they disagree with 

what's in sight

a true deliberation

of the meaning 

of any interaction

with the external world

they roll when

they are chasing after

whatever they think

may be important 

to self preservation

they wink when

they want the other

to miss something

the one wants to focus on

and they cry when

they agree 

 

Comforting thoughts

comfort can entrap

maybe not meaning to

seemingly not meaning to

but inevitably doing so

and comfort can become

way too comfortable

it can outgrow its purpose

and no longer provide ease

it's that perfect pillow

that allows the neck relaxation

to where you sleep

a little too well and

your neck gets a crook

because you didn't toss

and you sure didn't turn

that is comfort past its prime

comfort that has spoiled

or comfort that has spoiled you

from forgetting how to grow

blessed is the idiom of

just don't get too comfortable

don't want to drown in throw pillows

when your ship has already set sail

T-storm

same in essence

the tiny sparks

seen in the dark

when static shines

in fabric friction

the great energy

that rolls in sound

and flashes light

when the turning

of the earth rock

pulls at the ocean

levitating in the air

and the same spark

illuminates the sky

to behold what flows

through everything

in grandest display

a show of bolts and

music of the gods

 

In the numerical ocean

nine is the mirror

mine is the nearer

to your breath

holding the two mirrors

your birth is given

the moment I hold 

nearly as dear as

a time of two dimes

and if all this was true

I'd somehow make it through

and give into you

for you to count 

the fingers on my month

that's half of your own

and offer up to you

my crown and my throne

Mid-May distractions

those thoughts of

liliums replacing alliums

means someone may be

middle aged that is

if that someone lives

to be the ripe old age

of ninety, nine, a good

year it was to complete

high school and live

a surreal moment when

congratulations met

graduations, a time

of year for towns to

get wiped off the map

and more than a whirlwind

meets schedules for 

grandparents and estranged

relatives, it's all relative

but merely a distraction

 

Your sun sign

you are that circle

that peers through 

the drifting clouds

angry with thunder

you are that orb that

warms my flesh when

the chilling wind

blows through me

you have left your

mark upon my chest

in mid winter visits

and evening routine

you have slumbered

within my heart and

I have found a home

within your own

you will never be

alone through life

for our souls are in

ever conversation

you will always have

my offerings of peace

of joy, pleasure, strength

but most of all, love

Heads up

just above my head

hovers a swarm of gnats

notes bouncing up and

down a music scale

unheard by these ears

further out from these

little songbirds flutter

through arms of trees

and maple seeds are

flung by the breeze

propelling through air

to find their retreat

higher yet the raptor

surveying as it sails

through the gray waves

of the mirrored ocean

and my arms reach out

to wish the rise above

or the fall from earth

into whatever exists

far beyond any of this

 

Familiar dreams

getting an answer

for a question

never asked

is being in a dream

you remember

did I walk into

the corridors of

your psyche last night

is that where I was

when I killed the wolf

that had jumped the fence

or did you walk into

my hall of reflections

with the writhing alligators

being handed to the woman 

behind the desk

I'm not really sure anymore

who's responsible

for any of the thoughts

or any of the dreams

as you are always in them

and where you are

I long to linger

Green Lynx

tiny green spider

a tickle on 

my shoulder

somehow you

tagged along

I picked you up

from who knows

where

to wear as a pin

momentarily

for you have

places to go

and tinier bugs

to eat

no question

on how

no judgement

on who

just a wish

of safe travels

into the air

on silk paths

 

Blow hard

loose windows knock

on windy days

doors slam shut

on those same days

things are thrown

furniture is knocked over

on windy days

dead branches fall and

ash is blown from chimneys

on windy days

faded flowers disappear

and roots are stimulated

on windy days

dusty air is cleared

dandelion seeds travel far

and whispers fly to the stars

on windy days

Looking out the kitchen window

this connection

the tether between us

it shifts my soul

it is a furnace

burning within me

refining my being

because of this

because of us

I can no longer

belittle myself for

I wouldn't just be

belittling myself

you have shown me

my worth and beauty

by showing me your own

I feel you when

I touch my face

and my face is held

within your hands

so gentle and calm

 

Take off

jumping off this cliff

I was sure I'd fall

because that's what happens

I was confident 

you would catch me

because that's what happens

but I had forgotten

I had wings

because that's what happens

when you're told

you will fall if you jump

Time out

so many words

lost to the moment

a flock of birds

that have scattered

into the sky

when the frustration

fumes into the ether

around dusk dancing

with twigs donning new leaves

that is where the words leave

in a sigh

in a deep breath

all those words collecting

behind that mental dam

to cause a pause and retreat

to a moment to lose words

 

There when you're not there

you're in the numbers

on the clock

your whispers dance

upon my shoulder

when I'm kneeling

in the garden

you caress my face

in the breeze

when I have the window

down cruising through town

your arm is around me

while I watch my

favorite French movie

your hands are on my hips

while I'm at the stove

cooking a spinach omelet

for breakfast

your hand is warm on my chest

as I turn on my side

in bed and fall asleep

Once more

perhaps white butterflies

come back as seagulls

or better yet the small

fluffy clouds that take

shape as other things

and shift their shapes

until they disappear

it's just the same as

the perpetual march

of the flora fountain

diminishing daffodils

bow out to iris glory

for them to yield to

heavy lily perfumes

for all blooming beauty 

to yield only to even more

within the heart of

the divine and eternal

 

Son of Sun

to hold the sun

in this skin

as it reminds

us where we've come

from akin to sun

those past ones

that still burn

within our neurons

the firelight

in ancient nights

that bowed out

to new kings to

take new thrones

and reign in

these days of glory

The third of you

I followed

gladly I followed

your footsteps

through the streets

the alleys dimmed

by building shadows

and labyrinthine paths

I held in my heart

the past images

of you in a striped shirt

while we danced

at the fair

or when you looked

simply looked at me

from across the room

and I was yours

but this time

when we emerged 

into a courtyard

where the building facades

were married with vegetation

and we came to a pause

at a door and a line

to wait for entry

I felt a whimper in my chest

as you were two steps

ahead of me

but you looked back to me

held out your hand

motioned for me

and the world was heaven

as you took my hand

 

Sir Gallivant

the journeys, I know

are supposed to simply be

just that, journeys

adventures out and about

to construct that energy

those paths before us

as an ant may go out to scout

but I have it in me

to always take the dress rehearsals

so seriously

and invest it all in the moment

in the chance I want to take

and rise to look destiny

directly in the eyes

but only find sighs

and the lack of

the not yet

and reminded the journey

is the focus for now

Pastoral

green among

the golden grass remains

both goose and gosling

weave through willow

water's edge

paddling in the puddle

under the barking blackbirds

striped red with wings

off further follows

cattle calls and calves

running with young joy

the early energy 

that's spent so soon

and is overly observed

by standing smooth stones

through the years

 

What hides in grass

in the light

and shadow

at the foot 

of the spruce

a rabbit hops

between the two 

worlds to nibble

on the green grass

unknowing what

its fodder may

have been donned

with by the very ones

who cause the rabbits

to run from this

very moment as

they ride through

the scene on assailant

lawn mowers

Released

here I felt

all was lost

here my hope

all was gone

until you gave 

me the keys

to my prison 

here I thought

twas all or nothing

here I feared

the ship had sailed

until you turned

the key in the lock

of my prison cell

 

Morning view

of fish and fire

that escape from

glasses of water

to dance upon

desktops in sunlight

early in the day

where crows dance

atop the power poles

to the rhythm of robins

who watch a traffic river

so set on destination

flow to and fro

so very far below

still creeps the light

through filtered blind

so fish and fire

can make a daring escape

from the glass of water

Streamlined

we are walking

beside a stream

the water trickles

over the smooth

stones in its path

little pools form

where the stones

encircle pebbles

and golden sand

tiny fish swim

about with and

against the current

while dragonflies

float on leaves

that surrendered

to the liquid flow

we are passing by

the serenity of this

constant movement

that pauses for no

one and nothing

and just as gravity

pulls upon each

clear drop of water

so it pulls on us

at either bank of

this eternal stream

until it's determined

which gravity will

overtake the other

 

A harvest yet unknown

the ticking numbers

have come to a trickle

while Winter still fights

to stay relevant 

half way though Spring

views of fallow ground

leave a silent numbness

within the soul while

anticipation burns

for hot humid Summer

this lingering between

tests the tenacity of will

and tempts the defeat

from deep within

while time marches on

yet the promise waiting

down the road in Autumn

is more than enough mindset

to endure the chill

and float in time's river

The farewell

I let myself go

last night

I said a farewell

to this one

and my dreams

cut the cord

somewhere in my

ethereal body

blood was pooling

from within

and the physician

at my side

made me aware that

I hadn't long

I looked around at

my life

at all the things in

my house

at the sun in the trees 

along the street

at the eyes of those

I loved

and the river of grief

poured out

as the ego within

let go

 

Release

in minute yellow fields

the sun is reflected

in tiny tufts of petals

where flora flatters

the solar sentiment

where bees visit to

make it possible

for each tiny sun

to explode into a

supernova of itself

to scatter the seed

to release the future

upon it's unknown self

to drift far off and away

from anything known

to remember the lost

to find what is new

and to trust the wind

Someday

there's no rush

the thumping 

between our hearts

is slow

but steady

we both stare

at the same sunsets

and spend eternities

in their fleeting minutes

we both look

in the mirror

and watch our bodies

react to the knowing

somehow shifting

with the wind

that aligns 

grains of sands

in the Sahara

there's no need

to vanquish the time

that is the distance

between us

we both hear

the echoes of each other

laughing with friends

and our whispers

we utter into the night

there's no race

to what is already ours

 

Gated community

I asked to 

enter your dreams

and for you

to open the gate

and you delivered

though I walked

through the valley

of slot machines

the significance of it 

being a dime machine

I won at was not lost on me

but the true win

was returning to our room

where I waited

and when you walked

through the door

and your eyes met mine

I didn't hold back

then the gate slammed shut

Cloud drifts

if a cloud chooses

to shed a piece

of itself

then a piece of it

drifted downward

in a motion slow and soft

floating through sunlight

and the fingertips of the trees

where spider silks glisten

lifting my hand to catch it

it elusively flowed through

my two inner fingers

not just once but twice

and descended towards

the freshly cut grass

to nestle between the blades

 

May view

the cool breeze

didn't break through

the solar embrace

while heavy clouds

drifted overhead

the sun filtered

by mulberry branches

returned to gaze

upon a hungry cottontail

grazing upon rampion leaves

and dandelion blossoms

but the bunny must have

longed for greener pastures

and passed through 

the gape at the foot of the gate

lit by the evening sun

18

you are the greatest

distraction in my life

you are the dancing

of the sunlight between

the boards of the fence

you are the movement

just out of view

at the corner of my eye

you are the star

that surrenders and

hurls itself though

the endless night sky

you are the touch

upon my bare skin

from an unseen source

you are the whisper

passing my shoulder

in an empty room

you are the greatest

chance I could ever take

and equally the chance

I never want to miss

 

Yellow rail

movement flows

under harebell leaves

a tiny rarity

pops out at the end

of the overgrown foliage

feathers dressed in

a young fawn's fur

with the sharpest

brightest yellow beak

carried on oversized

clawed feet to easily

grasp any tedious spot

it finds in a marshy home

it pauses with a smirk

to nod an acknowledgment

of the happiness

right around the corner

Lune en scorpion

the scorpion dances

in the midnight sky

holding her glowing

face in its sharp tail

glowing petals fall

from her pale hand

shining scattered in

the celestial bowl

the scorpion holds

within its sharp claws

the fire of the future

burning in its grasp

fleur flames lay down

a path for the lovers

while grains of stars

make a bed for the sage

 

Evening attire

Sol’s sweet caress

lingers in the evening glory

while brisk breezes 

dance on the ends of hairs

stiffened by their presence

 

the dressing of night

smudges the blue hue

and shines the gems 

hidden from view 

this wave of a fine 

dark feather fan

releases the eternal above 

to humble what daylight reveals

and expand the possibilities ahead

in this starlit lunar show

where the crows go

Just maybe

maybe I'm crazy

sitting under the moon

waiting for you

maybe I've read

too many romances

and believed them too

but the moon has

told me you've read

those same romances

and that you're crazy too

maybe I'm crazy

looking in a mirror

searching for you

maybe my reflection

shows me a better

point of view

but the mirror's

told me you've looked

at that same view

and that you're crazy too

maybe I'm crazy

howling under the moon

calling for you

maybe I cry out 

too many times

thinking I'll find you

but the moon has

whispered to me

you've been calling too

and that I'm crazy for you

 

Beltane night

this fire

a herald of May

let its sparks fly

littering the grass

with dandelion gold

and red flickers

in tulip blush

its radiant glow

shining though

daffodil collars

hail the queen

this month of May

dressed in clouds

of Spring rains

and lilac blooms

reigning with scepter

of sweet lily white

and Helios light

call the Flower Moon

this first day of May

full and fresh

the lunar request

to shine down upon 

to kiss and bless

the Earth with warmth

and bloom's delight

for future's fruit

and unseen root

from this Beltane night

A flock of seagulls

the travel log 

must be extraordinary

for the seabirds

that return to the middle

and to give up

that briny shore and

salty ocean breeze

where primordial life 

once poured out of

for the middle

where one must follow

a tractor and plow

to scrounge in the earth

for whatever may crawl 

or wriggle out to sacrifice

itself for dinner

instead of plunging into

endless deep blue waves 

for a pound of silvery fish flesh

one must question

the reasoning behind

this seasoning travel

 

Letting go

a release of obligation

to further let go

of something that 

never was mine

to further surrender

to the eternal and divine

all that is kept

inside the chambers

of the heart

all that is mine

all that's divine

for it's possession

serving as deception

of that flame that never

consumes what it burns

let me walk through

that very same fire

let it consume both

my longing and desire

so I may come to rest

in what will always be

the unity of you and me

Cold wet grass

bare feet on

cold wet grass

flesh flows over

the fallen rain

hanging on each blade

the sky above echoes of

the wings of crows

as night filters through

the heavy sullen clouds

in silken petals shines

the golden sun

beacons among 

the shadows and green

bare feet grasp

the ache of wet cold

yet tarry on the lawn

 

Clearing of thistles

the sharp teethed leaves

in green rosette

of the early growth

so eager and vicious

tucked in among

the wild violet blooms

and blushing peony stems

and anywhere else

the downy seeds 

may have fallen last Fall

yet sharper blades

plunge into the earth

knightly swords plunging

into the bosom of

the scaly dragonish beast

never giving chance 

for violet silks to give rise 

to the same downy seeds

that may have fallen last Fall

In the music

this music

makes me think

of our talks

when we'd sneak

away in the dark

to get lost in

each other's words

there was none

of this silence

every little thought

would spill out

uninterrupted and

willing

sometimes my

voice would become

yours and you

would finish where

I had left off

and if we had gone

to a palm reader

I bet they wouldn't

have known whose hand

was whose

you always

gave me perspective

and I hope I

always gave you

hope

when our talks

felt like music

 

Weaving it

rain gently drips

on tulip petals

my fingertips flow down

the back of your neck

thick gray clouds

drift through the sky

your warm breath 

whispers in my ear

temps in the forties

chill the house

our eyers linger

within their gaze

water beads on 

the roof of the car

your laughter feels

like home

the rain sounds

an applause on the roof

we get lost without

going anywhere

Some October eve

we tarry here

at the gate

on the threshold

at the brink 

of a moment 

we have looked at

over and over again

attempting to figure out

the when and where

for the thunder in

our chests knows the why

and the who

well that's me and you

as for the what

well we need some wonder

but the first two

are the vital keys to the gate

and the how we'll leave to Fate

 

Molehills lost

he blindfolded me

and walked me

through the mountains

my trust was in

his guidance

and his trust was

in my following

and through obeying

our trust in each other

the mountains were

merely a gravel path

in a meadow

Jungles

a path is sometimes

not what it seems

and much of the time

that can only be found

once it has been traveled

then does one regret

that time spent to do so

traveling a path not meant

for them in the first place

or perhaps it always was

trudging through muddy

emotions makes a burden

heavy to the most driven

of a courageous heart

but alas it has to be done

the path can seem impassible

at times, so dark and twisted

or at times so very pleasing

when the parasitic hitchhikers

go unseen under loose attire

most difficult is when a path

plainly leads one off and away

from their heart's longing for 

but comfort in this that one only

needs to bushwhack elsewhere

 

Damn the ebbing

these constant waves

I know the reason now

the desert always returns

after the heaviest downpour

after my hand pushes through

to almost reach out and touch you

everything then withdraws

everything retreats

it all pulls in

within

and then blooms

once again, very slowly

into the garden we have known

into the splendor of the sun we share

into the moments we have longed to know

to again slowly fade from our view

trying to make a memory of you

when you were there so real

so present, so very true

burning deep within

until the wave...

Cardinal

he whispers in

a presence alight

in the reddest ember

to catch any eye

amid the blackbirds

the mask he wears

gives rise to his air

and dashing spirit

he's a ruby rose

that has found 

lightning essence

and the vehicle

in which to fulfill

his wish for flight

 

Supplication

let me tremble

when your hands

touch my face

let the divinity 

of you meet the

divinity within me

may we melt as wax

that carries the flame

into the endless night

may our heads rest

on each other's chests

listening to our drum

let us reach through

the mirror of our souls

to whisper our desires

let your burden be

upon my shoulders

may my eyes always

rest on your presence

may our heart ever

beat in its own time

let your blue flow

into my verdant green

and let your thoughts

slowly dance with mine

Reflecting

I watched you

walk down the hall

past me

your eyes glanced

my way

and the slight breeze

you stirred up as you

went by stirred me

it was all a reflection

as perfect as the ones

that stood in the glass

behind me

in that moment 

as you passed by me

in another place

in another time

 

Sunning the bull

always a push

and pull in this

for after I reached

outward all signs

are pointing inward

but the glimpses

I have been given

the very thought

of your laugh at

something I've said

makes my soul warm

visions have returned

turning inward into

the halls of our heart

all the bones of our

first conversations

yeah they remain

but the evolution 

well it continues until...

Enough said of bread

there's bread

in the back yard

again

little fluttery flights

getting too caught up

in their bird brain

drama

it was just one

the one bird who

thought,

"I don't give a flock"

and took off with

the chunk of bread

for itself

it was chased down

over my back yard

where fear took

over flight 

and bombs away

another bread crust

bites the dust

 

Tricky kits

I leave these little

good luck charms

in the garden

on all fours

and intact

instead of on keychains

though the price

may be a cherry bush

decapitated tulip or

nibbled foliage throughout

I've found their

tricks are much better

than any breakfast cereal

When our eyes meet

sometimes the silence

sums it all up

sure the small talk chatter

is the energy of the stream

flowing over the rocks

so many noises to expel

into the otherwise void

the deep conversations

is the energy of the waves

that assuredly come

and go as aquatic cymbals

for the shore to strike

but stepping back from

these flows of emotions

inland and inward 

the silence awakens 

and settles between two

sets of eyes that need

nothing more to do

than to soak in the silence

 

Split dream soup

there was an overgrown

field where he stalked

he was always distant

and I knew I had to keep

him exactly in the distance

I couldn't let him closer

I couldn't let him get by

and my presence was enough

the dilapidated house

was good enough for

a meager existence that

was all that could be

afforded in the sunset

of the couple's lives

and somehow no roof

was good enough to

let the light shine in

if only for a few more

the overgrown field returned

and yes, off in the distance

beyond the goose which might

have been thinking the same

I just need to keep him away

and my presence is enough

Jumper cables

it was a simple moment

where the mis in misled

was more of a hit than a miss

and the motivation for us

was found in helping another

the universe asked not once

but twice for me to show up

I provided help not because

that's a Good Samaritan's duty

but because it was the whole point

sure my goal was something else

it was hopefully a meeting of us

but I followed regardless

and was there nonetheless

in the intention of connection

and that was fulfilled and I...

I was fully content in the lesson

 

Damn it

your voice I

heard clearly

your face I

saw clearly

your breath I

felt clearly

but in the dawn

your voice faded

your face vanished

your breath silenced

and clearly became

something to forget

House of extractions

I knew her once

and found her

in a secluded home

tucked in the rolling

hills of the plains

I knew what she was

and her kiss came

as a great surprise

I wondered how she

could overcome

her primal instinct

and resist the impulse

to bite instead

her guests were many

and just as she was

and vanity seemed

to be the only topic

of their conversations

I found myself somewhat

giving freely what they

wanted from me as they

took it from my neck

with a syringe again

and again in my agony

a clear liquid they extracted

in between my shrieks

but what else should 

I had expected in 

the company of vampires

 

North from Woodlawn

vulture circles emerge

and waltz across

the morning sky

they have waited

for the sun's glory

to have faded

from the clouds

these obsidian aviators

are methodical in

their morning maneuvers

more so than their smaller

cawing counterparts

who take more joy

in their chaotic spontaneity

Ten ten

will it be too cold

the first part of October

will the sun be out

or will the clouds

crowd the sky

will I still melt

when your hand

reaches my shoulder

in the cool Autumn air

will you still ask

what we've rehearsed

in endless winter nights

will the trees have held tight

to their falling glory

will you also hold me tight

oh these stupid questions

 

A mid-April night

my heart never

belonged to me

it was always

meant for you

my soul has

outpoured all

the beautiful words

that have been

said between us

in the silent moments

of the night

those words escape me

like sand falling

through my fingers

but I know I will

find them again

when I look

into your eyes

And then there are tools

so many distractions

these clowns that

wear masks

who truly are

the teachers you

search for

and they may show

you the way of

what to do

or the way of 

what not to do

either way they

are there to show

you the way

and whatever trinkets

they are selling

in the long run

you will find

they become the tools

you will need 

to learn that the only

tool you will ever need

is your own heart

 

Alarmed clock

there's something

to be said

about being roused

from sleep

at 6:30 am on a 

Sunday morning

from a voice

that simply says,

"Hey!"

it pulls you from

possibly touring

a collection of items

you may have

once possessed

in a former life

or wipes away

visions of your grandparents

who came back

after their funeral

because though that

may have been

a big event for them

that wasn't all there

was for them

they have more lessons

to teach you

but instead that voice

echoes through your

ears as you lay awake

suspended in not knowing 

who exactly just said,

"Hey!"

Hail to pay

pea-sized hail falls

sounds worse than it is

just like the silence

that echoes between us

sounds so much worse

than it actually is

it's not a test

that we can endure

it's not a punishment

no wrong has been done

just a shift in it all

in the connection

maybe even to bring

the inner out

to pull the moisture

out of the clouds

and shift the rain

to pea-sized hail

 

Smudge

it's the third day

and mid way through

whatever this spell

is supposed to

be for us

the sun blessed me

and I hope it

kissed you too

there was a moment

when the smoke

from the neighbor

burning trimmed branches

wafted heavily

in the feral winds 

this afternoon

in that moment it

felt like time was

being smudged

there was a clearing

of this silence

and I gazed hypnotically

at the sky while

caressing your ring

Into the dark

my feet fall on the sands

they have led me out here

into these endless dunes

after this recent shift has

shaken our world again

voices have fallen silent

lights have been blown out

and off into the dark we go

in the distance though beats

a drum in steady true rhythm

a drum beckoning through

the winds wailing over sand

it beats through the shadows

that surround us right now

it's the homing signal calling

out beyond the night of the soul

these sands will yield to these 

winds that will blow away

the beating drum will draw so

close it will plunge into our chest

but for now the path is desert

the company is biting winds

and the map is the beating

of each other's chest drum

 

Modern Greek prophecy

the raven carries

the tip of Eros' implement

in her shiny black talons

to the east she flies

carrying the promise

of reunion within her

imbued with the accuracy

of the Moirai's sight

the Great Lover's tool

pierces both hearts

when eyes cast their

visions on each other

among the splendor

of Gaia's joyous warmth

harmony and balance

find the Taurus twins

once again, once again

Dream houses

finding yourself on a road you once knew

but now your memories deceive your reality

or better yet your dreams

and dreams not of your choice

but those trips your subconscious

is in the driver's seat for

the dust was kicking up

in the rearview mirror

and the gravel road had

an upcoming sharp fork

a lover once known

threw the steering wheel left

and the pickup spun out

into a field of dried soybeans

a draw laid ahead in the road

where two remnants of grand houses

were barely hanging onto the world

found at the hearth just inside the door

was an uncle once despised but now pitied

this blowhard had now deflated

as had the life that surrounded him

no satisfaction was found in this

merely disconnection, so sublime

 

Wado

to the image that

reflects back to me

to the person I look

at in the soul mirror

to the one who sees

me when I see you

I am ever grateful

for your existence

you make me want

to be better than I am

you hold me in the cold

singular moments of life

you encourage me to

always keep reaching

for the stars high above

to appreciate the joy

in everyday routine

and to be proud of

what I have survived

I hold you sacred

in the depths of my soul

and share the beats 

of my heart with you

Invitation to an ancient god

the soil turned over

easily as the shovel 

blade ran through it

tiny roots were already

very impatient in the

early April morning

green necks of allium

both garlic and onion

were vibrant in the sun

spinach leaves from

last Fall's planting

showed resilience 

lines were drawn in

the turned wet earth

for the eager tiny roots

while one line filled

fully with onions the

garlic filled only half

bones of former trunks

of castor beans filled

the trellis for the vines

squirrels chased crows

from the bird bath but

nothing was achieved

a lonely dragonfly flew

past as a reminder of

a friend of a former time

the early green planting

was watered in for the

wet earth to wait for God

 

White butterfly visits

pieces of the sky

fell upon the grass

they stood up into

a pair of slight wings

fluttering away to the

place they were from

the sun reminded me

it was warm enough

for these little ones

to be out and about

but in the same time

solar rays caressed me

imposing clouds sailed

across the cobalt vault

clad in all the shades

from white to graphite

sporadic drops of rain

flicked my flesh as 

the cooling downdraft

invoked a blushing red

while the layers danced

high above my sight

my soul took flight to

join the primal forces

in their sudden horde

Drawing out

my apologies

for inevitably 

spoiling the surprise

but you should

know it is difficult

to keep things from 

my eyes

of course we had

agreed there are

to be no apologies

between us

after all we have

been through

in navigating this

hall of veils

but truly I am sorry

for choosing

to reach beyond 

one of these veils

though the image

does not come close

in holding the glory

of your presence

 

Embedded

sleep within me

lay your head

upon my heart

and rest yourself

within my soul

close your eyes

behind my own

to drift off into

the warmest dreams

from my mind

sleep inside me

curled up in my chest

let my pulse lure

you into slumber

and stillness

slow your heart to

count my breaths

listen to my voice

to trade your thoughts

for calming peace

lay your worries

at my my feet

climb inside me

to surrender and

find your release

Mmmmm

mmmmmight 

the cold wet

out in the night

be coaxing us

beneath blankets

mmmmmust

the clouded moon

cast such notions

of nocturne motions

across the bed

mmmmmeant

in this moment

between two souls

halves to be full

of each other

mmmmmore

calls out for more

in cold wet night

and clouded moon

stretched across the bed

 

Of the South Wind

relentless winds

of my arid homeland

wail as banshees

within my soul

the cusp of energy

is a dust storm

raging in my psyche

this torrent is clearing

a path before me

all the tangled briars

of long ago loves

the twisted vines

traumas have cultivated

the stone mountains

that have formed

from iced over oceans

of emotions never revisited

all these are being swept away

to leave a smooth path

of Zen attuned sand

in its wake

upon the sand Fate

writes the way

to you

Pep-deck talk

sometimes a heavy heart

must be thrown overboard

to keep from sinking the

vessel it floats upon

what is this anchor 

you've tied yourself to

at the bottom of the sea

in those dismal depths

you'll never reach where

you want to go if you

keep this weight of safety

around your anxious feet

the stuck is bad luck

you must let it go and

then you must let it flow 

row, row, row your heart

 

Under the April moon

a heart is given

a heart is taken away

a heart is misled

and then finds its way

through centaurs

and crabs nestled

in water urns bearing

the royal beast

the set of bullish twins

have finally been balanced

and march with

a parade of pachyderms

under the April moon

No longer waiting

 the question was 

“Are you waiting 

for someone?”

and the answer is

“Not any longer.”

for waiting only

lets life pass by 

and we both need

to live for this love

so we will live

with this love until

this love lifts our lives

 

Oeuvre

I want to draw you

out of shadow

every contour of your

face and figure

let it all lay on 

the page in front of me

let my pen dip

into a well of light

to illuminate your soul

and enlighten my eyes

to the radiance of your own

let the tip of my brush

trace the outline of your lips 

and pull the hues down 

your neck and chest

to where I can see

the pulse of your heart

beneath the stretched canvas

let me draw you

out of shadow

and into my arms

Sunday sun

my vision rests

in the bare arms

reaching out into

the blue of the sky

a phantom taps

on my right wrist

as I hold it behind

my reclined head

in the intensity of

passionate sunrays

my flesh whispers

prayers to summon

the slightest breeze

a sweet invocation

falling in the drips

of glistening sweat

to ask the cool to

dance with the heat

while March teeters

in April's advance

 

You're a vision

the pool I've looked

into so many times

before has never held

a reflection, the scrying

mirror has never held

a vision, the candle in

the night window never

has cast a sight, for

when I look out into

the dark to find you

your face is only found

by my fingers tracing

an image that isn't there

no matter what a seer

might send me, the

sight of you is not

kept within my eyes

that is reserved only 

for the most sacred

chambers of my heart

Twiggy palms

you were shown to me

as the shaman took

small twigs, placing them

in my right palm

he asked me if I

had ever taken shop class

I told him I hadn't and

he replied that I was

going to love seeing this then

he placed his middle finger

of his left hand upon 

the twigs, pressing them

against my heart line

the small twigs transfigured

into a metal ring and

within the center of 

the ring was a screen

upon the screen your

image appeared and you

introduced yourself

as if we were strangers

 

The rise

out in the gold soaked

horizon of the new day

where aviators draw

pristine white chalk

marks across the blue

bowl holding dark

drifts of floating waters

dreaming of dry land

out in this essence

of renewing light and

time and chances to

become more than

what was done or

said merely 24 hours

before this moment

of fire drenched hues

out among it all with

awakening birds that

have already taken to

the air to navigate their

way to where their

wills drive them home

out in all of this I set 

my thoughts of you

A sight for you

the underside 

of the wings

flashed metallic

with the sudden

flap in the raptor flight

my gaze upwards

met its gaze downwards

upon the avenue,

auto repair shop,

hospital and 

vacant lot where

the casino once stood

the show down below

better be worth

the circling flight

high above

as a passing convertible

might have been

the ticket

with the passenger

looking back

at the hospital

in an orange

and green wig

Fortunato

sitting in the waiting

while numbers

keep us company

all the moments

that were foretold

rest in heavy eyes

the hymns of the skies

written in the stars

and proclaimed from cards

those hymns trickle

down the spine

as water trickling

in the back of a cave

you see the w

maybe an m from

another perspective

it is written on the palms

outstretched in prayer

to touch your own palms

as withered leaf remnants

tell tales from the bottom

of a porcelain tea cup

 

Silencing

the trust of the ebb

and the flow

is letting go the dove

knowing it 

will, return home

but there's no choice

but to trust

the wave will ebb

the retreat will come

the distance will grow

and you may never know

if the tide will rise and flow

if it 

will, return home

will it

will it ever

Pulling up roots

old roots were pulled

below the wind

pushing clouds

through barren branches

and a sun that seemed

to source these clouds

in a breath 

of iridescent essence

the roots held

the cool earth close

as a mother suckles a babe

the symbiosis hadn't 

realized full term

for it had come time

for roots to feed the soil now

but as often is the case

a human has other plans

 

High born Aken

we reached into

the sun

and the sun reached

into us

water flowed into

our lungs

to prevent our air

from igniting

the inner chasms

we had ran to

where we had hidden

ourselves

those chams filled

with the sun

we could no longer run

from ourselves

the light was so

piercing

it was so warm after

our frozen slumber

we felt on fire in its

presence

and we melted and surrendered

to the infiltration

The key for ki

the sudden stir

within each chakra

as the quakes in

the root and sacral

join tribal dances

of long ago and

of those yet to come

as solar plexus turns

in swirls

and echoes one and two

the heart ignites 

thrusting forward

to the beat of its call

the howling in the night

throat stretches calling

forth all the times

it was held prisoner

to break those chains

the pull of the third eye

out and beyond

reaching further

than the arm is long

further than the sight

can see

into realms unknown

those realms only known

to the crown that was

reinstated to shine

as a beacon for the others

to gaze and rise

 

Out of Pisces

how long have

we swam in this ocean

the depths where pressure

has plied our minds

with limitations and weight

a dormancy we've floated

in and through

as waves have carried

our harnessed bodies

far away from each other

but in a turning of the world

in a setting of the sun

and the rising of a new one

this ocean vanishes 

for us to find dry sand

beneath our feet

warm sun upon our flesh

clear sight within our eyes

and the will not of an ocean

but of our freed selves

to guide us on the return

Fly home

returning flights

feather within wind

bright burning chests

skip and bounce

against greening ground

while black tattered 

tips of wings

patiently float above

in their journey search

northern locales

have beckoned back

these lively and motley aviators

all in their proper timing

all in their allotted procession

to fly through 

tears from the clouds

and teeth of the fates

for reunion in their

northern homes

with weathered locals

of quacks and caws 

 

The translator

if it speaks on 

behalf of you

and it speaks

on behalf of me

what is it that

is exactly speaking

to the both of us

is it our heart

the shared connection

that holds us

that has taken

your hand

and holds my

hand too

and that will

place our hands

together some day

the whispers in the night

the smiles seen

just out of view

the hovering warmth 

the embodiment

is this an instrument

a guide for our voices

between our souls

Yearly days

in about three days

the balance will return

the light and dark will equal

the cold will retreat

the ice will thaw

the earth will wake

the sun will shine

the seeds will remember

the soul will shake

and free itself from

the foggy introspection

heart bells will ring

in the swirling breeze

warm hands will find

anxious shoulders

gentle fingers will find

necks anticipating their moves

as the geese take 

a northern trajectory 

Still in dreams

you are out there

in the crowd

I feel your eyes

when they're upon me

though I'm looking

through dark glasses

you give me the urge

to take flight

upon my ascension

we pass each other

in your descent

that's when it clicks

and we spend the

rest of the night

catching up to the other

through any means

possible

 

Thirteenth of the 13: the final five

dresser drawers

seem to glow orange

as one drifts

off into slumber

with the silent snow

an old friend with the

same name of 

a current one

she begins to teach

telling of her journeys

past explosions stall

in pressurized times

feeding the public

with rich heavy food

pizza weighed down

in seas of cheese

leaving the thirteen

nights behind you are

left with these words:

the two find each other

Twelfth of the 13: the sleeping poet

the numerous rooms of the house

were filled with scattered items

and the sickly woman 

attempted to serve her guests

the meat was delivered

butchered and ready to process

sausages were the choice

in the amateur preparation 

the three dogs prior in life

over extended their sniffers

the wrong clothes were available 

while the right clothes 

were already waiting

at the place of work

it had all been misplaced

because the black shelving 

now contained the wrong items

if only the clock wasn’t

an hour and 19 minutes 

ahead of where it should be