29 Wednesday Apr 2015
Into the pine
great horned owl flies
and rests, for a time, at twilight.
The same tree
in which you dreamed,
long ago,
owls stood watch-
one guardian facing southwest waters,
another the northeast ridge line..
What you dream is busy
dreaming you.
11 Saturday Apr 2015
He drives through night,
his fear,
navigating roads with poor eyesight
and the anxiety of loss.
She waits, after 30 years, to release her last breath
upon his arrival.
His mind, his hand, reach for her
through lessening miles.
Following a companionship of sorrow-
reunion comes
in rainbows of falling tears.
Movements,
these delicate movements,
carve the limitlessness of human hearts-
darkness can’t even stop that.
10 Friday Apr 2015
Rewiring a body,
what with its arms and pinkies and patellae,
in knowing hunt
of the frequency of wind
through forest tops and hillside grass
as all else quiets,
of the partnered rhythm of breaking waves and
the ocean of this heart,
of the resonance in birthing sunlight
crossing far valley hills-
These sounds our bones hum
when the clutter and reversals and dust
have been cleared
from places they never belonged.
07 Tuesday Apr 2015
Wind rocks the trees
at last.
They’ve been asking when
they’d get to dance,
and only flirtations greeted their longing.
Rain wets singing birds,
the sound enters darkened sky.
Singing in a storm-
fruition of a lifetime’s work.
The invitation is always there.
30 Monday Mar 2015
When rhesus monkeys come
to Dharamsala,
the cedars speak louder their wordsong
and blue green saturates sky
made milky by rains.
Taking coffee at a bistro table and
looking up to catch eyes looking down–
Moonpeak behind and unwalked horizon ahead–
wedding pen to paper becomes
a most important act.
25 Wednesday Mar 2015
Hummingbird scratches
before zipping off her oak twig perch
to import elated business to pine.
Her tongue flashes free a moment
before flight.
One hovering wiggle and the flowers burst
into a contagious grin.
06 Friday Mar 2015
Wrinkles gather
for rivulets of joy to pass through.
Skin registers the days, the years,
captures earth movements of a lifetime-
sights seen, impacts felt..
the stories awaiting coffee and a friend’s perked ear.
Faces change, hard places become soft-
another land responding to elemental embrace.
I will watch your bodyscape alter,
like your growing heart,
and smile at time and gravity’s impressions,
in that worldly deepening
of us both.
25 Wednesday Feb 2015
An electric palm talked to me last night.
Piercing its feisty fingers,
playful dagger fronds dipped in hallucinatory intent,
through moon’s half cast of sky.
That crazy cat visited,
showed a thing or two
about shape shifting and trickster medicine.
She grabbed my brain
with her buzz.
Scattered stars and hairs of lazy clouds
sucked her dark light towards them.
Further along,
silent, unmoving owl watched
from telephone wire.
Stopping for him, I said hello.
He dropped off into flight
carrying my whisper back to the forest.
A few steps away, cypress
impressed herself upon me,
a pale barked dancing woman
held within rounded trunk.
Wonder and timelessness,
a patient grounded movement
through change-
like this old tree whose feet
adapted to growth at the banks
of asphalt
where uncorrupted earth
once collected water.
18 Wednesday Feb 2015
Looping letters in pen,
my fingers contain dances
that my tongue is meant to spin.
But, without them, you wouldn’t hear me
over mountain ranges and
thousands of miles eastward.
This instrument will take the sounds,
twirling and swaying in my arms,
and transmit them through your eyes.
There’s a hunger that crumbs of words
could never stave.
Grasp.
Hold.
In stillness,
you know possession is impossible.
Let’s look not at one another, but
to the approaching terrain
wrapped in shadows of dropping moonlight.
The landscape will explain every twinge
these small dances can only hint at
through dusty, fading footsteps…
16 Monday Feb 2015
I needn’t reach out from here,
the entire world can come to me.
Body slung comfortably
between eight agile legs,
I sense your presence
long before you know of mine.
Quivers of silver silk
transmute movement
into knowledge,
informing my scuttle towards,
or away.
Deep in this dark protected place,
I gather silence
and watch.
Light drops in,
lifting me up
if I want to visit day.
But people fear me,
little me.
Tucking myself away
with my abilities
feeds a hunger for solitude.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 