Such speed, seeds scatter
in wayward winds;
we clutch to clothes
with one hand
barely covering us
and greedily grasp to catch
what we did not plant
with the other

How far the fields
lay fallow waiting
to be tilled by the
hopes of all the Living;
Crossing the threshold
from pain to stain
Stamped and torn
from future’s sight…

Who cares for little ones
in prisons forgotten?…

Has the earth ever made sweet love to you?
If so, how would you ever know?

Have you ever felt the seed of the wind
smear across your parched lonely skin?
Have the wet kisses of summer
assaulted your body with tremors of eros?…

What breaks on the dawn
a light on the shore…
a reef in the sea…
Toward which horizon do we reach?

Dare we touch the fire
‘neath the skin of creation…
or does the Flame
fan desire into us?

Can we break the bough
and pour the cup
of tree and sap
that welcome the stars?…

Oh hollow beauty
you too seem sweeter
now from a depth
I could not first see

Is it true the darkness
holds light more brilliant
where colors glow
in unknown caverns

Dare I lean toward
or welcome its leap
the night’s breath
on my soul’s cool neck

Shall I answer in kind
with resonant hum
the unseen eyes
whose gaze I am

tpt 1/19/18…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They sit inside for a long while
almost until the intensity fades,
and then drop slowly and moistly,
reminding the skin of songbird hymns.

Days of summer seek to rest,
as lilies shrink and fold in dry green;
weary and worn though fresh
the traced hues dive into earthen brown

Water colors the hiddenness of silent rainbows
waiting perhaps to kiss a piece of missing –
Spiraling fractals pass and return
creating holy pastures of pattern

Where you go I am she says
dearly paining the heart so full
Remember me not in fancied detail;
Still greet me in the strides of soul.…