There was an orchard
lemon trees as far we could see
a memory of neroli flowered breeze
I was running in the scented rows of yellow
in a dream, you were always catching me
ever the days, when sunlight seemingly chased the moon away
there in a school, where we lingered in the sweetest lessons
of our lives and trees
When I return to Hope
it will be the height of summer’s warm July
I’ll stroll the gravel road to take the cutoff path
gathering lupine wildflowers, breezy among the dewy grass
make my morning way along heaven’s labrynthine trail
with chirping cheery bird, sweet songs or distant calls of loon
where blue of sky is woven wild with magenta all abloom
and I will lose myself most complete
immersed in nature’s room
Paper trees
winter still lingering
soon begins water ice trickling
big eyed, dogwood blossoms, rain
pink cherry flowers blooming mad
snow of paper petaled lawns
gardens whisper underground
in colored arrangements
awaiting dawn
I could write messages to the sky
climbing to the top of this summer mountain
digitalis pink, swirling sweet with bees
this place, tangled all in green
At the overlook, I am with trees
windward hanging on, dream
to fly away, a seabird ocean soaring
my mind of paper kite, adrift
through clouds of sky
Smell of moss and cedar
release of incense
in the warming sun
footsteps, fragrance
soaking deep
within
This must be Eden’s
color of azure water
glinting flecks of sun
transforming turquoise blue
that my reflections go
diving in
Unlock
the door
of your heart
tomorrow
soon will come
leaving sorrow
far and gone
from this
place
Lilting, lull
of ocean’s
gentle waves
seashells play
songs of love
washing
over
you
watch
the rise
and fall
of love’s
breadth
Snow is falling
lightest snowflakes float
across fields deep
disappearing
densely slow
my feet
Night is glowing
snowy owl flies
from sight
lost in moon clouds
fading light
Stars are humming
in fields of velvet
black
the earth
the universe
the breath and pulse
of life
Your hair,
of smoke, it floats
curls adrift, waves
of wild sea, upon your head
I gazed long into the storm
before my hands ever
learned to swim
sometimes perfect suns
stream through my dusty windows
memories of you, in sepia colors undone
the breadth of days long gone
all of this
each time I go
driving by
Today
silence
a garden
losing ground
cold and deep
my feet in
buried snow
sometimes pale ghosts
of winter whisper
in the footprints
that I follow
long, until the
Spring
Sword ferns warming
some unfurling toward the sun
deeper green the moss grows softly underfoot
forest fog the breadth of morning breathing
grey, pale lichen clinging
a snow melt creek splashes running
clouds break away to light the day
the shine of mossy flowers sunning
this church it has no walls
no doors to lock nor ticking clocks to read
only of the sacred does this wooded temple sing
and I so humbled bow beneath
resplendent evergreens
If these words be thy home
salvation for my soul to dwell in
let them be of love
no beginning
no end
better to go barefoot, on glass
running to catch trains,
going anywhere
one way
to find you are real
blood stained tracks
to make you feel
go far from loveless rooms
where monsters stir
under bitter yellow moons
leave behind hollow tarnished flutes
playing cruel notes
of a blinded, deafening past
play loud
a new song
blissful notes ever
resolute
Today only clouds
white, blue, grey
always they hover
mingle in tallest trees
too far my eyes
to see
winter sky
pale light
soft, silent
diffused
passing by
everyday
I think
and
dream of you
how you speak
to me
never knowing
my name
Who can think straight
spinning in seas of shells and waves?
Tireless tides play a game, of dragging in and out
marooning or tossing one about.
Many sailing ships adrift, you’ll see passing by,
or weathered wooden boats, some row and row,
to the edge of earth, foggy
never dreaming they
can fly.
long silky filament
curved, reaching for stars
peduncle, sepal and petaled
ovule, jewel – seeds of renewal
encased in velvety red
pollen explosion, pistol potion
anther tipped stamen bled
evening stars now far-off shine
bees drowsily dream
in wax house, honeycombed hives
She was speaking
butterflies floated from her lips
fragile wings
caressed your mind
together, entwined
you flew
fragrant petals were her pillow a scented garden filled your room
you were dreaming,
roses soft, laid
upon your bed
a morning of golden sun
compassion, salvation of sacred dawn
they were barren
void of masks
becoming utterly
love
forest path of light
visions in gradient greens
incense of wooded rain
puddling streams
splash awakened in
bliss of dream
faerie orchids
rest upon mossery
scented rain
sprinkles on
hues of
green
a path
invitation, hesitation
elation, compassion
a truth
intuition led
Red table mesas
Whitest clouds dot to dot sky
Healing waters run
Of you,
I speak of
softest petals, always kissing
flowers, full bloom
wet drops, your reddened lips
pour darkest cherry wine
all the day, watercoloring
my skies
Ever twisty they climbed – the vines
the tree was speaking low, so slow – the breathing
roots were diving deep, so deep the breath, the depth of grieving
concentric soul, go within to flow, letting go, it’s time the past was leaving
born a child, wild as smiles, dance in meadows green
with joy your heart is weaving
and when the night starless looms, you’ll bloom
your heart, open as a flower
When I was a child
making my way, always to a forest
obsessed by green, or light
shining through greens
that is how I lost my mind
never even knowing it, or why?
No explanation needed
for a child, crazy
deep in bliss.
When white wings, feathery scatter
silent as snowflakes gather
resting on rooftops,
in death, does a soul linger,
does it fly in the vastness
of forever?
Like some birds in clouds
we’ve never seen, though
felt in rain, or wilds.
Swift a rush that chills
and floods the heart unknown,
a gift of truth reveals
that which eyes cannot look upon,
and only hearts
can feel.
with the recent passing of my Father, it’s good to know his presence is felt, at times in unexplainable ways, but also he has appeared in my dreams 3 or 4 times since he passed, with two of the dreams being deeply spiritual and profound to me.
Ceylon cinnamon tea,
cardamon, ginger
from painted cups,
drank she
Somewhere in a dream
in other countries, never mapped, a man was speaking
though I did not understand, there was never any plan
and I listened to the wind and rain upon the trees.
With no church bells to ring, and birds were the chorus
There in the forest, a silent steeple stood standing on it’s own
now a wild bird’s home, wrapped in thorny vines
a crown that stained, red berries bled upon my hands.
Mary was there too, she was looking through
a broken window pane, whispering my name
and too, the forest sang, bathing me in love
and with the birds I flew, silently into
a deeper dream, until I woke at dawn
to fragrant flowers on the lawn
remembering such heaven.
Of Spring I dream…
cool moss alive in verdant green
with cherry flowers – petals fall like snow
our footsteps pressing in
dissolve cold snowy lands
in the heart of sun
love, born of fire
unfolding
When evening’s
long shadows come shooting
swift as arrows piercing stars, darkening this world
leaving gold amber hills in underworlds, far until tomorrow.
How can we know the difference, but for light of day
and if the sun does not come, how long would
such a strange night be?
Mourning – you flew over indigo waters,
landing
Stealthy stalker you walked the shallows
billing silvery minnows
On rust red stilts, you’re built
to move in watery fields
Eyes piercing depths of algae blooms
rippled, your swaying seaweed room
Silent hunter,
feathery plumed
She loved the pale moon
he traveled beneath night’s sky
woven by starlight
Your eyes of clear water oceans, endless as stars
and seas I’ve crossed – a perfect tide gathered me whole
healing waters washed our days, birds of fluted music played
Breathing in
the rhythm of wind
we float, suspended as the stars
surrendering to the hypnotic glow of moon
We who lay
our troubled hours
soft on maiden ferns
never a lesson, but
for love’s sake
shall we ever need
to learn
Buoyant snowflakes sideways crashed
dripping down grey window glass,
stinging winds blew harsh – the lash
of winter.
High in pines, do they shiver,
nesting birds deeply hidden?
or
do they warmly slumber,
with downy feathers, nestled under,
night’s darkest cold, before
the light of dawn?
There were birds, and yesterday’s flowers,
the children laughing, never noticed fall retreating
or when winter began, forest faeries sprinkled snowflakes,
sparkling to cover the land, with magic until the Spring again,
when all their days were deep in lilies, silken petals
held dear in tiny hands, and very soon
Summer berries, reddest cherries
were laden sweetly, solely
just for them.
Lily white the mountains disappearing into sky,
silence of snow, growing ever deep the day and fades away,
I cannot tell where cloud meets dell, on such a winter’s eve.
Night will glow in moon tones, cold the foggy grey,
stars will shine for another, some other world away.
Dark and light, void of color, a palette
in winter shades.
It was as if they wrote only to set us free,
never thinking twice about the landing or flight,
plowing dirt fields, with scores of prose, in sorrow and delight.
In a room of sun, where seasons come
with snow and rain, and none will ever be the same,
long after the reading, and none will ever know the poet’s name
or why the words have opened wide
their buried hearts
to grieving.
Today – it came suddenly, like rain it came in sheets, stormy without warning
it left nothing to repair, no way to undo the longing, swift we fell, fumbling
as you flew far, forever and gone
with no one to find you
again at your home
Somehow I felt you smiling or knew you’d be laughing,
dancing in daisies, barefoot and singing Sinatra
on the other side, sweetly
by now
I lost my Father today, this just popped into my head. I hope to write something more poignant and meaningful about this loss in the coming days. A very sad day indeed my friends,
Cyd
In childhood days of dream, with grassy greens,
and swings we soared the warmest breeze,
in blue skies of laughter.
Under a canopy of wonder,
we laid under, O’ the hours of summer slumber,
the lazy slow of watching meadow flowers grow.
Spring it sings in budding greens and seeds
with rain and sun, the days you’ve grown
acorns planted for rebirth
I press my hands to your trunk
and feel myself divinely rooted to this earth.
The road unpaved, waved in winding red
high pines unfettered, buried feet under needles – strawed
Warmth of sap, fragrant, piney bled
Lithia springs ring clear, a tumbled water song
Owl tree softly spoke
to newborn lily fawn, caressed by mourning cloak
Sun begins to edge the hills
wings rise, and flies the morning fog
Fritillaria bends the light, leaning into
daybreak’s mantra song
* Mourning cloak (Nymphalis antiopa) – common butterfly, found in many parts of the world
green forest child
you grow in sponge drenched soils
drawing me in – an epiphyte longing
sunlight piercing raindrops
of lettuce lichens drinking
mosses soaked, greening
softly underfoot
Far away
it must have been another world or looked a different planet,
the earth red as fire all the mountains wide, dawn of painted skies
banyan trees caressed the landscape, we rested under, dreaming
words echoed through vast rock walls
that seemingly had no end
drifting up and out the canyon, mingling with clouds
to fly away with birds, the words are floating in the air
connecting all the world
in the birdsong
that we hear
Freeing my life force
unblocking meridians
energy balanced
In that place where skies go swift and black
storms steal your silk and shiny petals
fading into yellow.
When words reign cold as winter rivers
running dark toward the shadows
strange roads, desert bones
can leave you deathly hollow.
Soul you speak to me, calling from far off planes
voice of wisdom, your power swirls round me
gentle as petals, you lift me from the fire
all ignorance forgiven
leaving only and indelible burning
of love in the heart
There is no river winding, trickles splash, vanish
silty waters stone cold, gone
glacial icy blues fading fast
recede deep into
our past
soon recalling
nothing
not even our
breath
Three flickers outside my window, smiling – I searched for meaning,
I wished forever joy could stay,
but one, two, three, they flew away
and with them took the fading sun
with clouds and rain soon falling down
now waits tomorrow, with shadows and sun
with joy and sorrow, the birds will come
Certain roads will beckon, haunted in their calling
enticing dreams, caress your head in pillows soft,
surreal, they wield black magic
leaving you stranded on roads unimagined, to unravel
dragging home, long through
dirt and gravel
When evening comes, the end of day
drink sweet the honey roses
and toast we two, day’s farewell
the sun to slip away
Til’ night appears fast before
a pearly blackened sea
Shells will sing
of warming winds
whistling through the hollows
A song of stars sparkling loud
humming skies of
moonlit ocean
Bright chartreuse edged, magenta flowers, with lavender
just beyond in the bee fields of summer, thousands of seeds, days spilling over
planted in early autumn rains, to wait again, dotted in red rows of poppies.
Today no clouds will come
only purple mountains glow, before the sun
beyond these fragrant hills, I wander
watching hawks and sparrows
til the golden day slips away
and I am lost between the space
of night and day, and lose all trivial words
and think how glorious
to be a bird
No more to swim in your bluest seas, farewell my dear Pacific,
long did you sustain a myriad of lives, true unimaginable bounty,
you gave all for free and still we stole your life away.
Goodbye salty sea air, no more to breathe your sweetness.
Soon a plume shall come, raining poison death upon us,
watch for wicked winds of radiation,
to silent creep, and deadly seep into
soil and irrigation, you mustn’t eat
of tainted wheat, now flee thee to
south of the equator.
To the trees, to sun
to birds and the ways of love
to breath – I thank you
Looking to the skies, sifting stars and lies – you dream,
someone waiting at the gate, watching very late the night
Talking to trees, swirling circles breeze, windy autumn
leaves you to fall, sailing golden ships
red and yellow slips, arduous trips will take you
Whispers shake the soul, only you will know
drums of heartbeats
that awake you
Grey woods, morning mist
hangs upon the trees, leaves decay, sway
falling to the ground
Quiet – this world, but the sound of rain
washing wet the berry vines, droplets
falling to the ground
Sparrows flit among sheltered branches,
nest’s to repair, twine and twigs
falling to the ground
It came hollow as carved bone and cold
strange as moon glow shrouded in mists of fog
it blew breathless, deep as darkest space unnamed
with towering waves it came
crashing silent upon the earth and sea
Sun stars melted.
Who will light candles for them?
For whales, seals and the
fallen humans?
in response to Fukushima and the ongoing nuclear assault occurring on earth 🙁
and still they want more, total insanity.
And so they came to grow and grow, some flourished wild – under days of golden suns,
some never planted, only blew lonely across the fields of splitting winds
til a drifting life can no longer hold the certain breath of death
swallowed once again by the welcoming earth
a wildfire ignites, burning only for rebirth
life springs anew born of ash and fire.
Stone cold, the blackening sky, stole our field of flowers,
soon seeds of dandelions washed away
in watercolor charcoal skies
gone grey.
Tomorrow
all the brightest colors
a mourning
away.
Through wooded fog
fades the day, abandoned to the grey,
lost road, lost home – belonging to no one
Pictures found upon a mantle, dust and charcoal,
photos framed in rusty metal,
sepia shadows, a broken mirror
Collections of rocks and bones,
letters and sealing wax,
china cups, stained and cracked
Musty pages of paperbacks,
remnants of a life long ago.
Memories, pressed flowers of fading bells,
little relics, loved
so well
Lies, sins, pretty grins
a face to dance you away
spins your days so grey
Vine maples branch,
dappled paths lit green
Forest fronds reach for skies unseen
In deeper wood comes black of day
red cedar’s fallen to decay
Oxalis spring – softly flowered white
sway and lean into the light
Wild berries burst, upon a mossy floor
drinking sweet, red wine poured
mouse and bird drunk with delight
cozy sleep their woodland night
Pale white or maybe slightly gray, blue
looking through – little holes, grains of sand, blowing through
tossed about this stormy day, ocean spray
you can’t hold, lapping waves.
One day whispers will caress
your ears, salt and tears
You may break or drift, you can never tell
storms of love, pearls
and shells.
In a dream, somewhere in other countries, never mapped
a man was speaking, though I did not understand, there was never any plan
and I listened to the wind and rain upon the trees.
With no church bells to ring, and birds were the chorus
I came upon a silent steeple in the forest, standing on it’s own,
became a wild bird’s home, wrapped in thorny vines
a crown to stain, with berries, bled upon my hands.
Mary was there too, she was looking through
a broken window pane, calling out my name
and too, all the forest called, bathing me in love.
Then with the birds I flew, heavenly into
a deeper dream, til I awoke at dawn,
to fragrant flowers on the lawn
remembering such heaven.
Sweet desert fragrance
perfume lingers in my mind
long after the rain