In Love

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In love with the pulsing ripples.
In love with the waxing flush
of belly round.
In love with Moon so bright,
her pure face eclipsed by the earth’s
shadow of gold, tonight.
In love with creation happening
mysteriously,
as woven within me.
In love with the smile of him
who surrounds me.
A caress so tender,
my sensitive skin responds
like the veined skein of an orchid leaf.
In love with the sun’s rays
kissing my limbs.
In love with the deep blue sea
crooning us to sleep at night.
In love with the flowering trees,
whose fragrance fills the night air.
Magnolia, plumeria, jasmine, orchid.
I am in love.

The Secret Gift

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The foothills of the heart loom large
among shadows deep and purple.
I climb the winding path
through silver sage, and elderberries,
the song of the stream whispering in my ear.
From within a hermetic voice, a friend
I have not listened to in a long time:
timid, yet hoarse.
It speaks the truth, and flies on a winged arc,
glistening in the mystery of the folds.
Uncovering, discovering, recovering.
Flaming leaves rustle in the twilit breeze.
In the palm of my hand I hold a secret gift.
I will carry it to the mountaintop.
There I will bury it, release it, give it new life.

Glistening Lake

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Glistening lake reflects the dusk hour
in lapping waves
of azure, black, and peach.

Sun low on the horizon,
disc of fire
moves faster than flicker.

Sense of open wideness
as I sit on the dock
arms locked around knees.

People walking circles
around the basin of water
exchange words
immersed.

Birds swoop low
to kiss the water,
in one graceful movement
of flapping wings
and singing heart.

Sky tangerine
Vibrates in cellular beauty.
A stillness so sound
it mirrors holiness.

Beneath the willow
I walk on the path.
Unlocked.
Searching gaze.
Intaking.
Breathing.

Tuesday blues on rooftops soars

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Tuesday blues on rooftops soar.
The eye as wild as eagle wings,
spanning the heights of mountain rims.
Connecting knuckles;
curving spine.

A low sound, emitted from within
vibrating of cells
in silent energy.

The boundary lost
of archetypes, hieroglyphs.
Strawberries.
Colors forming geometries of the sacred.

I ventured out into the great beyond.
Holding my shoulders.
A poncho draping
In loose folds.
I held my name, an essence
I can only begin to grasp,
in unity. Between notions
so fractal, they move
in faceted fashion
of fingerling fineness.

Flower of immortality,
nocturnal halo, candles
glowing in darkened candor.

Nymphs sing in perfect
tones of emanated radiance,
flowing essence.
The power to behold fulfills
the nucleus of divine being.

Staggered I fluctuate
on waves of ethereal,
outward and in.
Blending boundaries,
until thinking disappears.
The child enters now,
oscillating from lacelike expansion,
to creviced contraction.
The place where time and space
appear both odd, and more tangible.

Painted with memory, wafting
with scent, it carries me
back in time to mildewy leaves,
in the shade of the mottled tree.
The rainbow shimmer in each apple bough
sage green, white, and dark olive leaves,
purple and russet queen bark.
Veins, buds, opening, closing.
The world is breathing,
one breath.

Three-part movement

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Heart.
Carnation rose –
unfurling being,
rings the bell of images,
beholding memory.

Dewdrops of saffron light
sing in the echo;
the rising source,
pure, subliminal, ever-present.

A wondering wish
of wild revelry.
The reckless dreamer
gazes into the blue beyond.

Rhythm.
Unlike the steadiness of beat.
Rather the varying harmony of waves
washing the shore,
from hushed brushes,
to crashing tides.

Or the sacred proportion within
a fern unfolding,
Spiraling in golden unity –
its green-apple transparency against the rays of sun.

A visual graph marking,
in progression,
the irregular order of the cosmos.

Trust.
A symphony in endless acts.
As long as life.
My work in progress.

Sleeves folding back repeatedly.
Breathing.
Allowing the process to happen.
Acknowledging the other.
Saying yes to being.
Knowing that I am enough.
Smiling when I get off balance.

With each turn, the core
opens, in contrast of light and shadow,
a little more, exposed.

Sacred Fire

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burning bright
cleanses my soul
through the night.

Aspiring high the flames
tear, licking the sky
in formless wear.

Millions of tongues,
in unspoken languages,
consecrate
the essence of the divine.

We stand together
as one
witness to our
indelible, unsolvable self
and to all that is other.

To whispered murmurs and hushes,
to the bird in the rushes.

In secret pockets of the night
embers glow of eyes that see.

Forward and back
beneath the vast sky,
in luminescence.

Mine and yours,
a heavenly embrace.

With all that is movement,
growth
process.

Unfurling spiral of life
seed, shoot, leaf, flower.

And back, withering
becoming with the earth
underneath and over.

The tide runs in and out
as it follows the secret
stories of the moon.

Eyes glow and tears shine.
A quintessential saltiness
pressed from deep within.

I release to witness.
My heart quickens.

The in and out breath
that shapes us.
The bridge between
words
arcane, sudden.

‘To see the world in a grain of sand
and the heavens in a wild flower’
said William Blake
mystic, poet, unknown.

My breath soft and shallow,
I soar into the sky
holding form, dear
to essence,
one instant, so precious.

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Brine

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Blue and white extend far beyond
the open sky, melting the sea,
its turquoise expanse crashing
into white waves. Bubbles of foam in a mad
rushing caress caught between water and shore.

Brine mixed with the smell of fish and seaweed
evaporates into the air.
Earth and sea emit a primal sound
that rocks me to and fro
soothing my tousled emotions.

Beyond the coastline, wild palms
frayed by the careening wind,
their fronds point arrow-like
toward the cobalt sky.

Snowbirds in groups stand huddled
and distant. They observe my approach
in a diffident stance, and shy away
as soon as I am too close.

Pelicans, one body in flight,
swerve gracefully above the horizon,
each part of a greater whole.
Their motion, a symphony in action,
touches me deep within.
A beauty so perfect
it sips of the divine
and startles my uneven breaths, caught
between whim, and insight.

Barefoot on the sand, I spread my feet
wide to the touch of broken seashells;
somewhere in between pleasure and pain,
I imagine a massage of organs churned
in the motion, and my foot opens, unfurls
distends, breathes.

The sun glows tangerine before sinking
below the horizon, pulling with it
my discomfort and any critical sense left.
As the night descends with
its loose cloak of velvet blackness,
humor enlivens my own shores:
this country of impatient physicality
now approaching acceptance.

I stand in my flesh,
more compassionate,
distilled by the pickle of vodka.

Magic in my pores

IMG_4494The fresh air works its soothing
magic in my pores. I breathe in
rain drizzle and salt spray.

Seagulls veer overhead.
The sun shines a glimmering
stripe over the Cascade Mountains
in the bay beyond.

The day has passed
indulging in passions and care.
Soaking, cooking, playing music,
reading, yoga. Now it’s time
for the most attended arrival.

I have sat down, picked up
my black journal, uncapped
my fountain pen, and started
writing.

I let words flow without searching
or effort. Images flit across the mind
like black and white birds flying low
and fast over the water.

They thrust their wings and bodies
forward and back in a tension
willed toward freedom, love,
nurture.

Each year the seasons turn
the wheel of time, arching
their smile in chromatic hues
over the months.

In her own bird and beast,
flower and tree, resonate
from nature’s call.

Responding to an inner will,
a promise to the gods,
or a drink from the tree of life.

Like them, my words are willed
to grow, transform,
move toward what is felt,
yet unknown.

Particles

Particles of flesh weave
the texture of my shell
in the ebb of the tide,
under the watchful eye
of the moon.

Air, water and fire united
to mass, weight, earth
in a pattern so infinite
it mesmerizes my gaze.

They constitute in an ever
changing unison of form,
colliding into elliptical swerves,
like super eight volcanoes.

I am here, under the toes of elves,
nimbly fingering my inmost being,
from molecules so minuscule
they elude my consciousness,
to veils so vast they expand far beyond.

And when the light goes on,
even if just for an instant, I absorb
bubbles of effervescent geometry
before my close-lid eyes.

Manifesting the archetypes
of an awareness I did not know
was mine.

Colors so bright, so ethereal,
like flowers blooming,
the next moment gone.

Only to find a knot in my spine,
a grovel in the bark of an old tree,
its growth arcane.

Roots of my being break through
to rivulets of energy, a dimension
so warm, so beautiful
it fills me with ecstasy.

In the bliss of a moment’s kiss
the body electric sees itself:

alive and held
full and empty
finite and eternal
one with all creation.

I open my eyes to the darkness of the hall
and sing within my being
to the forces above and within.

The truth now lies instilled
in a wave of tears.
Salt and earth sediment together
as kernels yielded from years of forming,
on a journey where love and trust
are linked with the fibers
of a mesh that resounds
of beginnings.

A fleeting overload of sensations
fills me, sucking on breast,
the fuzziness of a peach.

Thin grasses swaying,
coated by a white mantle of ice,
nod translucent to the tangerine glow.

The disc of light makes its way
above the horizon,
while my heart exults
in the force of creation.

One stem at a time
I sweep and arch from sky to earth,
cloud, grass, pebbles and stream.

In the violet hour I sing
to the harmony of the seraphim sky,
surrounded by the symphony
of all creation.

Its oneness brims over
and holds me
awash in a transitory glimpse of eternity.

I wave to the oncoming night and the star filled sky.
A salute to that emptiness
that is fullness.