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Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone

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Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone

Category Archives: Infinite

Water

22 Friday Aug 2025

Posted by feralpoet in dance, dreaming, Infinite, language, Love, mystery, poems, poetry, prayer, presence, receiving, Summer, water, words

≈ Comments Off on Water

Searching for words is seeking water

mid-mesa.

Not a tree in sight.

Blessed sage basks in full sun.

Rain falls, drifts away.

Soon tarantulas will promenade,

romancing their coupling dance

to create the next generation.

No, the words are water

and the Maker decides when and how

they drift or drive or well up

through this hollow reed.

Let syllables drip from the tongue unsought,

honey for those hungry

and in need of that particular soul balm.

Draw nearer

10 Saturday May 2025

Posted by feralpoet in adventure, beauty, companion, Infinite, movement, mystery, poems, poetry, unlearning, welcoming, wonder

≈ Comments Off on Draw nearer

I draw nearer the Unknown.

How can I not,

to be closer to God is this;

Unknown–true Creation.

Not noble or shiny, maybe missing teeth,

limping, dusty and brilliant..

Stay close,

the past can not play out forever,

only mind does that,

read the signs, look for what’s different,

if, at a thought, ice fills your blood

and belly turns sour,

power has been tossed away.

Relax back into change,

those arms wait to hold you,

the generosity of a reliable and beloved friend.

Ride the horse.

This.

12 Wednesday Mar 2025

Posted by feralpoet in devotion, honoring, Infinite, laughter, learning, leaving, poems, poetry, prayer, presence, welcoming, wonder

≈ Comments Off on This.

Time is a not-knowing.

Life flow.

Infinite creative arising;

Step in

to where you can’t not be.

Awareness will return you there.

Here we are, within continent-birthing

and crumbling upheaval–

crashing edges, sudden limits, tighter twists,

unleashings,

every corner a blind turn.

So where do we go?

No place but here. This moment.

And when the lead line of anxiety

rockets out past our knowing,

we nod kindly, gather it home–

to breath, scent, pulse, wind, ground–

gently pulling back our reach,

that which takes us out past ourselves,

tipping us

away

from what is true.

Be loyal to this,

this,

this.

It is All.

Partnership

17 Friday Mar 2023

Posted by feralpoet in change, companion, Expanse, flight, ghosts, Immortal, Infinite, poetry

≈ Comments Off on Partnership

The horrible truth, felt,

finally spoken,

worse than death. Many times worse.

Sky fills with vultures, high,

dozens spiraling dozens, circles and circling.

Perhaps nothing so beautiful,

nothing before.

Large, black, some golden with angling sun,

every one of them alive with death,

their carrion feast,

every one of them, all, in flight,

wings extended and eyes bright, alive

in partnership

with Death.

Alive and flying, together, loosely

through sky,

floating and effortless,

in partnership

with Death and Wind.

Effortless.

Flying, floating, free.

And effortless.

Movement of a bone

12 Sunday Feb 2023

Posted by feralpoet in adventure, approaching, becoming, change, discomfort, flood, Infinite, learning, movement, poems, poetry, presence, receiving, still, welcoming

≈ Comments Off on Movement of a bone

Movement of a bone.

Suddenly.

A gate I never thought I’d walk through

swings open–

access to land traversed by others

but never by me

spreads wide and borderless.

Vast, a savannah,

broad, an ocean,

hidden, intricate, bold–

a cave, universe of a moss, storm cloud.

Speechless, held still and utterly restless,

I do not know what emergence now includes me

but this smile keeps flashing across my teary face.

Tyranny over

03 Friday Feb 2023

Posted by feralpoet in beauty, becoming, break out, devotion, discomfort, fearlessness, freedom, honoring, Infinite, movement, poems, poetry, water, welcoming

≈ Comments Off on Tyranny over

Tyranny over self,

Tyranny over body,

Tyranny over the Land.

Carve mountainsides, slash prairies, pollute valleys, hate,

hate and control, cellulite, humps, wrinkles, and jiggles.

Hide and hate, turn upon the landscape inner,

the landscape outer–

one and the same.

Within this domination resides

everlasting distraction from the rhythmic pulsing

of our own heart’s rivers.

In service to the status quo.

As Earth’s waters are Life,

our blood is Life.

Break the shaming silence–the waterways know

to indulge their curves, bumps, and depths

singing praises through movement,

of tree roots, reflected sky, grating rocks

and wriggling fish.

We have only so long to celebrate and dance

our one beloved Body:

Skip the contempt useful to maintaining outdated ways.

Jump straight into dark waters full

of more Beauty than any one lifetime can hold.

Between prayers

23 Sunday May 2021

Posted by feralpoet in abundance, aging, becoming, giving, growing, Infinite, land, learning, poems, poetry, prayer

≈ Comments Off on Between prayers

The fourth decade

walks me between prayers,

of one blinked forth twenty years ago,

a blessed ‘Fuck it’ rising from the earth

to cup and guide and split open, and

of another gathered in the thirties–simply

‘Thank you.’

With solid scaffolding of experience under me

I can walk with the first tucked in a back pocket,

the second, on more able days, held in heart,

and the infinite wanderings between

growing a garden of ripening fruits and blooming flowers

with seeds maturing slowly toward ground

rich with Life ready to receive them.

Days long

29 Saturday Feb 2020

Posted by feralpoet in change, Infinite, learning, Loss, pain, poems, poetry, prayer, the road, work

≈ Comments Off on Days long

Days long

become years

and one most loved becomes a harm,

and through protection and confusion you seek

understanding of drastic change,

and the heart must learn

Safe? Not safe?

Safe? Not safe?

While you search blindly for pillar of heaven,

with eyes playing no part in this pilgrimage,

Heaven rests closer than the newly loud beating

in your chest..

so it goes and on it goes and through you go

asking for direction to the River when it has sunk

far underground within life that continues on

always always life continues on

beyond twist, injury, death and journey toward Spirit

alone.

Perhaps for the first time.

04 Monday Nov 2019

Posted by feralpoet in beauty, becoming, courage, fearlessness, freedom, honoring, Infinite, movement, nature, poems, poetry, story

≈ Comments Off on Perhaps for the first time.

She pours glitter out of the glass slipper.

Ridiculous thing, sweat filled, fragile and unyielding.

With a moment’s further pause..

She hucks it and its mate straight

into the Sea.

Maybe there, in salty, living brine

they can return silica to sand,

or, at minimum, make homes

for lonely crabs looking

to entertain the holy wisdom

within their ocean-loving neighbors.

Glass slippers be damned, She mutters,

and skips off between broken waves and flattened

wet shore

simply to find her own fleshy rhythm.

Perhaps for the first time.

Day opens

10 Wednesday Oct 2018

Posted by feralpoet in abundance, Infinite, Music, nature, poems, poetry, prayer, weaving, welcoming

≈ Comments Off on Day opens

She lays in bed, sheet lightly covering.

Out the window clouds of rain draw near,

without hurry or menace.

Slow jazz fills the room, no one else close

to breathe the same thick, gentle October morning

in her nest above the street.

Pumpkin pie awaiting baking,

lamb thawing on white tiled counter,

and the low-lit day opens towards everything

she loves.

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