It came softly warm, mist of fragrant showers
garden flowers of parchment petals
drank of sun, of moon, of rain
silent, the Perseid showers
a falling sea of rain.
It came softly warm, mist of fragrant showers
garden flowers of parchment petals
drank of sun, of moon, of rain
silent, the Perseid showers
a falling sea of rain.
These nights, this lonely space
blue or black, that starless looms
strange orbit pulls me to you
our misaligned planetary arrangement
spend my days ruled by the sun
but nights I trip, faint in a nebulous field
dream in colorful clouds of sighs, with you
tis’ only my fate, I can never escape
only linger under magnetic moons.
Here we sleep under star flowers
a flash of meteor showers
our room a fire light – full bloom
sigh and breath of moon
we travel nights like this
in a sky of sparkling jewels
swim and dream, float
in shimmering pools.
Never run swift and away
leaving without words
never go fast my love, escaping on far off trains
only to ride all of your days, gone from me
arriving in places foreign and sad
left waiting empty
traveling ever lonely
on and on
Oh green I sing, of wings and birds across blue morning sky
with summer sounds, willows round the floating pond
dipping gently by.
Warm winds play music soft
through leaves and reeds, they sing
gathering in the transient breeze.
All the day I rest my head
breathe sweet the flowering fields
never shall I leave this place
nor want for any sweeter heaven.
In the garden, a bird, a flower
gold the edge, gold the dawn that hovers
a song of summer, a tiny sparrow perched
long upon the woody yarrow, that musky fills the air
a redolent warmly breeze, brushes by the maple trees
caressing sweet the singing leaves and breathes the air of heaven
in the gold of a halcyon summer
beyond the hills of sage, grey plumes
a stark blue sky cloudless looms
and sings with birds in lilting waves high above the field
they break the silence in a world transformed
a song – void of man’s ordinary words.
The mad allure
the bite, the cure
haste and taste of you
splendorous kiss
sudden slip, we drip
wet in rivulets
of sweat
Our flaming fire
swallowed by desire
a gathering storm
so calmly warm, just before
the fall, the come hither call
that pours and pours
drops of diaphanous rain
When we were very far
and young, in a place with no roads to follow
only a winding path, a branch to grasp
a place to fill the hollow
Blue the summer, with drowsy daisies came
petals, petals, we drew circles round the sun
gold spun, our halo heads of pollen
gold the bees of sleepy flowers
amid clover grass heaven
Days we lived deep in hills
we were endless green, in unmapped countries
stretching past the farms afield, in other worlds
too far to see, we lived beyond the gray of days
and we were free, in the shining silver
of our hallowed hills of ever
Where sleeps the crescent moon
and drifts bright stars away
to bring a song of light
glowing from a thicket there
where tawny birds take flight
or dappled in the wooded trees
foggy breathes the morning light
with rousing sounds of faeries there
drowsy in their dreaming cares
they bid farewell unto the night,
to stars that sail swift into the evanescent light.
Now springs another day from this woodland place
soft with mossy grays or starry lichen lace
green the leafy ferns will wake
with scented rains, wet upon the bark
incense cedars drift and swirl
sweet, the air of smoke
until alas the sun, so brilliant comes
from behind a clouded cloak
and disappears once more
the dawn that softly spoke.
Clouds, I drift upwards
lofty float with billowing, pillowy thoughts
to places high and heavenly sought
bathed in sun dappled warmth
see the greening leaves brought forth
fruition and flowery goals
some secrets of nature I can never know
see how days forever go
feel how summer encircles
my soul.
Lilies in the long grass
wild with tigers, striped orange
under trees, cool canopied
buds of sun blossoming
pretty cats slumber
sleek they dream
twitching whiskery
breathing slow
slinking low
as if to stalk
shock the
sallow moon
hunt and growl
purr and prowl
animal whisperings
stark the tiger lilies
glistening.
How many times at this cliff, wild with winds
waiting for direction, even though storm clouds come
I look beyond, remembering the halcyon days
but today – rain, rain, rain
Tonight in this garden
a million flowers loom
clouds of gypsophila bloom
through our window and beyond
with fragrant vines, they sprawl
saturate scented paper walls
these night lilies, only a dalliance
that blooms and fades
your hands, my breath of sighs
we are drunk from dulcet wine
sung from the whisper of moon that dips
caress of your reddened lips
traveling this world
lilting softly slow
I woke early to silence
but for the whirring of a fan
the stillness before dawn
I wrote these words
though they never convey
the pure heart of morning
pure the song of the first bird.
When you come home
bring forth a garden, a storm
all the colors of you
a flower petaled rain befalls me
a soaking, sweeping view
from mountains you come
calmly with rain
deep from earth’s core
sweet with petrichor
encircling softly warm
attracts me magnetically
stupefies me uncontrollably
though I know the killing hour
will come crushing, empty and forlorn.
When peace comes curling up to me
comes to rest softly on a sweetest breeze
or in the cooing of a mourning dove
carries my aching soul far and gone
it comes in the soothing kiss of dawn
in the quiet clouds of red and orange
brief a fiery sky, consumes all the
troubles of this world.
This evening, with the wind
of my curtains breathing, I listen for night birds
watch the room grow pale
the finality of day, a nightly ritual
how skies reconstruct themselves over again
twinkle and murmur of stars
cynosure of all planets, even unseen
clouds like amnesia, hide things
our earthbound slipping away
of days lost irretrievable
involuntary
necessary signals sent
heartbeats and breathing
If when you leave, you do not think of me
or do not call my name, then I will be a lost
and fallen star, diffused and drowned in
unforgiving seas. I will be restless on the waves
of my days, blind to all horizons
with dark stormy eyes
then only grey blinding fog
will settle in, descending
with smoke to kill, to choke
my dying heart.
It must be a tricky business
it lingers, hovers stealthily
an invisible silence
a swift inhabitation
the soul awaits
to startle the body
In wordless voice
moves from room to room
turning lights on
spends a lifetime
ever longing
to be heard
When I returned home, after having been gone
I’d missed the fire orange poppies blooming
missed the lilacs too, it was early summer
time for bright and blossoming flowers
there is no place that fits me quite like this
no place I wear this smile, quite the same
I follow bees into the garden
I sing like morning birds
just to be home
high up in the tree
a lonesome feathery dove,
does he coo for love?
I find myself here, wild
roaming the long road home
to no one belong
Spend all of these days
together or alone
Survive the heave and cleave
the warp, the weave
of winding years
A lifetime, a spiral of
trying
flying
dying
This path of sandy footsteps, windblown and buried
this road contemplated, walked upon
the veritable green of a forest speaking
I come out the other side, bask in flower meadows naked
travel to summer seas, float the wild blue-greens
watch the wet sand, of footprints sinking
a nomad, windswept – my days of seeking
I see the watercolor sky, a painting in orange, red
soft feathery ferns, my bed, left to dream under
moon jeweled skies, indigo velvet nights
only to breathe the sparkling air
of this evanescent life.
Gathering colors of day
sea of green viridian, washing storms of grey
seagulls cry in shades colored blue
how mad the ocean’s raving tune
it sweeps away the end of day, a hopeful sun
to paint the sky of blackness
paleness of moon
rises, fades
beyond the sway
of silvery shades
night shimmers its way
into red and blue
where fiery clouds ignite
the day once more anew.
Oh these doves, they are cooing crazy
a language full of sunrise colors
with a variance of blues, they coo
and soon the quails – laughing
the way they do, in their morning mood
smaller birds chirp and shrill
the air, melodic music filled
here amid this cactus garden
singing halcyon songs to the sun
and these flowers pale yellow
bloom high in the saguaros.
Wings they came at first, unknowingly
didn’t even feel them – a part of me
until you pulled the ground
the quicksand from my feet
breathed my sinking sleep
awake
It was shallow water, rippling
a watery moon quivering
on the surface seen
It was night fire
burning water into steam
gray smoke screened
It was willful drowning
upon a lily bed of lies
parched a wilted garden
slowly withers, dies
This sacred mountain
holds me ever close
this trail fat with hope
to whom I’ve finally
told the truth
Redolent rain
steel train
streak of blue
racing through
night lands
rainy window
sallow moon glow
no reservation
nor hesitation
time to travel
some things
to unravel
go looking
unhooking
my mind
drift into peace
float in my seat
high in the sky
sweet sighs
to feel again
finally
understand
there is
no plan
only
a dream
within
a dream
to feel
a life time
so surreal.
I looked into the center
into the circles of gradient color
the pollen, sun gold anthers
sepals green, holding close the petals
smooth stemmed, impossible heavy heads
beautifully in rings around trees
the honey sweet blossoming spring
busy with new born bees
that fly in fragrant dream
discovering lilies bright as sun
watching bees become one with flowers.
The blossoming green seas
sometimes shines of two
wet, watery kissed
salt drenched lips
of burning steam
bodies unfixed
tangled into
dream.
Alone, this time is slow
though for you faster, I know
out of reach, we do not touch
cannot speak of two
all day I only think in blue
climb these craggy trees
to hide myself away
lay in the seaweed sways
wait the night to swallow
my lonesome day
oh and then the cruel stars
the ones you named
appear, to shine
and speak of you
in vain
I sit here, brood
a twisted mood
think how
to forward move
how to undo
a tricky tightrope wobble
people pulling me
I cannot walk straight
need time to deflate
lose these traps
want to break free
of the need
want to find me
really love me
please go away
you cannot touch me
cannot know me
or go with me
cannot show me
anything I need
from you
I am the juice
the fire
the truth
the liar
you are reflecting
back to me
places I do not desire
I am feeling
dismayed
afraid
of the price
I’ve paid
now is the breakaway
the reckoning day
no plane
no train
no half insane
free to go
free to assail
derail myself
from you
far and
gone.
From this island, water and more tiny islands
heavy treed with Douglas fir
landing ground to ocean otters
while orca whales glide by
spout and spray
the beach, broken shelled
puddled wells of tide pools
filling, spilling over again
brown bauble seaweed mingles
round algae rocks, barnacle shingled
here where the air breathes salt scented
water running wild with salmon
Some say
she is lost to writing poems
snippets, little vignettes of beauty
so much nature inspired, obsessed
with green, botany driven desires
forever in skies, blue, or black with stars
meteor showers, falling, melting
like the liquid silver, red sea of mars
crashing waves, her days
tossed, tumbled, stumbling onto poetry
there is no fault, in words
no shame to be made
would be a sorrowful price to pay
she is writing to find
some truths, a sleuth, a seeker
of going within, without doubt
writing to find herself
most days searching out signs of life
to feel what it would be like, to be
in trees, in leaves, to sleep in green towers
of garden lily bowers
to finally dream in lucid colors, surreal
climbing invisible ladders
in orchards of apple blossom Springs
to sing, sing, sing
Orchard
Walking this ground
we gather rusted remnants
pieces of a lifetime placed
within the hollows of our shoulders
and from the hardened blades
the bones, this is the place
where gorgeous wings
are formed
Iris, how you shallow breathe in winter
shiver under clouds, laid in a bed decayed and brown
your days cold in a garden, green and underground
long through all of winter
with spring only ever waiting
for the unfurling, color blue of you.
If wind
would have known
could have gone
another way around
if I had not been too soon, too late
to hesitate or let myself go – unbound
piled, buried too late to be found
if I’d not have stayed away far too long
yours would be a place
I still call home
I think of mountains
the way they climb for the sky
losing their way through clouds.
Looking up, I never know if they reach the top,
or do they see me way down here?
Some kind of ant, I dig for rocks
a pocket full, turquoise blue
a miner for Apache jewels
exposed by red dust winds
as the day chips away
and carves a night
back into black
obsidian.
These flowers
coronal quivers of gold
heavy headed they nod
sweeping sway of yellow
dancing white petaled
wild spring meadow
washes over me
bouyant in
a breezy
field
How you flew, newly feathered
a fledgling falling from the sky
but upwinds sailed you far and high
carried you strong through clouds
winged and wild your arms
fingers running through
the updrafts of cold,
cool then warm.
In a drowning river I went – to swim
only a short while with you
the flail and falter of cruel water
caught in the reigning thunder
impossible to breathe when held under
yours was a killing lure to be sure
a death trap of words
but no steel cage can ever hold
a sky full of beautiful birds.
Wind and dark the night I pine
stark the grasp of longing
branched and vined
blue mourning
deep in soul
an echo
calling
When through my fingers
your hand slips
taste of your
fleeting kiss
lingers
drifts
Paper winged
when torn, I stutter, stammer
spiraling and falling
only in dreams softly sweet
once more a butterfly
brilliantly winging
When winter melts
footprints of mud, this path
now a screen of green
I cannot see, lost I listen for
calling words, the haunt of forest birds
cry, they call before the storm
deep a swell of rain pours
that wild, brings another Spring
mossy soft this budding floor
mist and petrichor that waft
attract, they meld and melt
sweet into the soul
Watching a turbulent sky
birds in the drowning clouds, cry
I am waiting for the spring, the change
the variance of green
waiting for you, a fool
swim, I drown in this moon-pool
dark down a tunnel of night
I make my way by braille
only to touch, to see
a rivulet of rain
before the sun
that swells of red
and strays away
the day, a heart
that long ago
fled
This is the shadowed imprint, the trace left
ice melt and sea drift of time erased
soft-shod footfalls once apace
this ancient path we travel by
wild with beasts, fledgling trees
of downy wings
we cry, learn to fly
stay awake to see the night
how light penetrates
moon tangled through trees
our souls to illuminate
stars light the way
carry us ever further away
once per chance, never again
until morning
My heart a fevered pulse
haywire fuse of sparks
an ignition, a lock, a key
turns, follows, leads
In a world unknown
our days, sweet, slow
we glide, float like moon
glowing through trees
the shine of dream
here where the hours are slowed
here where one is left
two-souled
With night, my love brings a paling flower
brings me full bloomed, a drenching petal shower
disheveled, falling to the ground
until our colors run out
the burst and shatter
delightfully tattered
the killing hour
he brings
Early, this silent earth
in the stillness before sound comes
before the sky, the narrow line of light that forms
my ears not yet attuned to this world
search for noise, waiting for the first bird
then soon a chiming bell of birds
a cactus wren that comes to drink of sun
or deeply sweet, the air with mourning doves
that woo and coo before the dawn
a soothing balm, a bliss that fills my head
This valley, belly and backboned
a blanket of snow – stitched and gone
textured trees, willows wind blown
here where an early moon heaven still hovers
here amid the last smoking sky of cold
a chirping of morning birds unfolds
singing a gleeful goodbye to the moon night
winging before the sunrise
the blooming of daffodil springtime
and too, wisteria tangled vines will climb
reach for the calm of violet skies.
Celestial, indigo
sparkling stars of fire
molten rings of planets round
the silent sailing clouds
float across a sallow moon
hung in a sky of glittered jewels
diamonds, opals, pearls
The final blue hours of day
the falling to your sway
the mad of reason slipping away
under the pale moon, of night’s dawn
with stars all strung, you’ll come
so soon to taste, to kiss me
a crushing fire, to quench
to melt, to take me
High in hills, winds the road to your home
steeped and flowered by lupine towers
after long slumber, the waking hour – warmth of summer comes
our feet grassed and green, we wish dandelion dreams
watch tiny parachutes glide into the sea
this place is wild resplendent music, played of notes unknown
we have become more than ourselves, and slowed
have stopped to feel our breath grow
making a path, cut from last year
we are slipped and sloped toward shore
silhouetted, just before the end of sun
when the world sinks silent
but for the deeply toned
hum of whale song.
Winter was his letter, wicked weather
with a head full of snow, a deafening cold
blinding, piercingly curt without a care
slighting me, cruel with words unfair
upon the telling page, icy clear
and I frozen in my dumbfounded stare
left cold, lost in winter weather.
It is nothing hard to find
to be the stillness inside
the slowing of time
sink into the tranquil divine
the drift and melt away
of mind
It is nothing you cannot know
the unwinding slow, the softening of soul
the water trickle, splash and sparkle
It is something worthwhile
to let the moment be
swallowed by the sea
to be the shore, to sit and wait
ever at the gate of the unknown
When finally quiet comes
the long pain of night’s trudge
the unmasked soul dredge
swift an arrow, piercing
when friends have all gone
in the silent dark before dawn
this is when you
miss me.
He bought and sold things, much like the man
who sold balloons in the park, fashioning them into strange animals
mostly fastened to wooden sticks, except for the helium headed ones
they remind me of you, floating high and lofty
out of reach, wanting escape from ties and pulling strings
drifting from the city moving countrywards
many are mesmerized by the migration
the fantastical triumph of levitation
they wait for days, years under trees
but not I, I am no longer drunk by
hot air and helium dreams
Kaleidoscope eyes
spirals amber brown
meld and move, turn and groove
exquisite mandala art, they impart
colored rings, how they bring
ever close your soul to me.