Between cemetery and resting field

Birds chatter in the walnut tree,
here,
between cemetery and resting field.
Butter yellow sunlight crosses
folds of canvas.
Mortared stones warm,
church bell rings.
The beagle’s collar jingles
as he circles a man-
hand-knit brown wool sweater,
dark trousers,
rifle hanging down from his shoulder-
slowly walking.
Today,
a hunt for rabbit and pheasant.
Through the open door,
a woman’s voice rises in song.

Dig in

There is a dance here
Between getting what we want
And not.
Often, not serves up the wonder-
What’s a life that goes to plan?
Uncreative, controlled, missing the unexplained sparks,
a parched abiding, inviting scant vision, inside an airless cave.
Blasting past the walls
Free falling-
Rather to have an unexpected journey than the tourist package-
Come
Dig in
We’ll get messy together.

In the Labyrinth

A little lost
in the labyrinth..
Come
I say
Come…
The unpaved road you walk-
soft powder underfoot and
bowl of sky-
was not given.
It belongs to you,,
yours,
forever,
yours,,
Hear what must be
understood-
this separation you identify with,
that cracking glass,
you have let it define you..
Come forth
Come forth,
with each step a prayer
and release.
The beating in your chest
is my rhythm,
No difference
No difference
between

Waters

Pushing away the waters,
we try,,
No tide stoppable,
short of pulling moon from sky.
If birth,
then death.
When drawing this in-
with breath-
We are free,
with exhale-
To take life’s tender hand.
Precious day,
night’s eggshell,
offers light exactly as long
as intended.

medicine of Silence

Were her voice
silenced
the medicine of Silence
would stop at the sand on which it breaks,
the drum of night unable to find its way
from heartbeat past her lips..
Our shore is one and the same,
the Ocean
our origin and return…
For the ears attuned
the music will be heard,
again and again
dancing bodies will join,,
The rugged journey along coastline and mountain ridge
not
for naught.
From formless to form
we are instrument.
Standing on peak and cliff,
we are moved.

Purging Ghosts

Purging ghosts.
Remains unknown.
Before the honest untangling
and exit, lies
sorrowful lies told and unquestioned.
Growing up isn’t quick,
or clean.
Longing tugs,
yearning twists.
And in the great redefining
of love
comes a self-mastery
more valuable than all treasures
sought and killed for.
My heart was yours,
our gentle laying natural and,
for you,
too unfamiliar.
Can’t hold the gifts,
passionate or otherwise,
without the water passing through the spaces.
Other waves,
long ago risen,
must also present themselves
in salt prisms and opalescence.
Where, after all,
would the sun set without definition?
Gaze upon that changing horizon line…

Initiation

A loss
A becoming
A walking away
The opening into…
Ruins of the expected,
tatters of the uninvited-
materials for another’s build.
Destruction,
this razing, a forgotten call heard-
Void,
her all,
Now.
These palms, soft cups of sky,
await
not only unstoppable but
full ocean strength.
Mystic union.
Awe of the inexplicable,
untraceable connection

This fig. With the plucking of this fig-
Initiation.

sea and sky

sea and sky hold to nothing

across and within them
Majesty has her way,,
the dashing and clashing
fold into rising color and lapping blue…

if water or ether
knew fear,
grasping would begin.
and no state of storm or still
could again be as free
as the liberated elements
giving endlessly
spirited breath
and enlivenment to all
who wish
to know beauty.