Solstice has always seemed a night for the soul. Perhaps it is only the onomatopoeia, or imitative, echoic principle at play? With the greater and greater need to simply ‘stand still’ as the earth spins along at it’s magnificent speed, Solstice is a soul-moment when we nurture and connect to earth and one another in… Read more »
The Artisan’s Rose “Hephaestus, fashion me as a summer’s rose That fears not winter. Guild my thorns fine as Aladdin’s scimitar, Matching the inner lip of the Crescent Moon. Curve my petals not as an artist creates dreams, Rather as You, my artisan, Soft-hammers gold into rabbit bites of love. Mold me from the white… Read more »
In Memoria: Blood memory of time Coughed in turbulence that tubercular life An arm severed when but a boy. Blood wedding, for Lorca knew. Blood drained in leaches, through dark lesions When memory could hold no more. Those faces– mine. Known to you. You my mother, my friend, My Captain, my child, my slave. Mated… Read more »
Nirvana Spring sun whispers compared to August fire Its timid warmth more cherished As though it can only outline, Tease out fullness And fool’s folly, hope. Surviving another cold sojourn The bone-life, Where Nirvana comes hard April incandescence uncoils us, Small Garters twisting on warm logs Shedding to shape-shift. Asana: Vrksasana, Tree Pose. Stand in… Read more »
In the ocean of our breath, we meet ourselves, Deep sea divers encountering exotic fish the first time, Gasping in delight. What strange creatures we seem. Filled with fear, Dazzling with courage when the heart breathes, Let go surface safety, plunge down, Into dark waters, glitterings of spring.
If I had known, Oh sweetest heart of stalwart years, That you would see so well Calm forlorn seas within Teach my drowning self to float– Later learn to swim. If I had known Then my parched self would unfold Skin melting into skin And snake-like shed All I had been, rising and Risking its… Read more »
Under the staggering gaze of the full moon, Her face the face I love Reveals cold weight of winter Illuminating purple snow And hills where geese wait. Her round largess at the horizon Sets off shrill squawking Silhouettes rise across her redolence. Do angels fly on such nights? Lovely as swans— white on white, Unseen,… Read more »
The hill behind the house lies bare On dark’s descending ride, Leaves a figure standing lone with the North East wind inside. She hesitates, then hears commands, Sounds of squadron pride, Silhouettes on sunset’s wing With the arc of the world as guide. She waits, as hopeful beacon In silent calling –“Come by here!” Desire… Read more »