Decision

It seems you had a lifetime to make the decision, not from a clutter of youthful options but now when the wine is ripe. The range of vision reduced by what you’ve chosen not to follow, the many things you will not do, when the sleeping shape beside you asks will you love?    

Equinox 2012

The point of balance, or rift between dark and light when illumination wins the struggle, dragging us from our inner cave into the dim lit morning. Leaving the dream time and drama of atonement behind, for what may rise on ancient meter and sing us, bawling like infants into the here and now.    

Bring What Burns

The stars don’t wince, retracting light from their dark surround. Rise and bring what burns to the day; against the emptiness deep and gnawing light the fire of your soul.    

Mystery of Owl

Part of me enjoys the dark, wet tangle that will not rise nor come in from the night, where the mystery of owl speaks to the sea, wings spread in darkness.                                              

Spoken from Silence

Stark white paper and midnight ink, sun lit pale yellow plaster, big drop rain flowing rivulets in the street and your hair twirling in curves of fine silver. Against the tide of violence something spoken from the silence like an arrow parting air with the sharpened point of love.    

Dream Whale

I pick my way beneath the oily wooden dock, pilings down in sea water, invisible in the dark, and I feel the old fear. I raise and lower my feet in gravelly sand, edging between barnacle-covered posts then out on a rotted step where I hear a great exhale. In the wide cove a whale […]

What’s At Risk

In the dusky blue of early evening Venus emerges like a lantern in the west then Jupiter following loyally like a light bearing knight. Three fat seals lay above the tide line, one snorting and belching in his sleep, dreaming of deep water and fish; a pair of otters swim beneath them floating in the […]

Sing Us Home

I harvest words within the earth made of owl wing, moon change, fallen trees and stubborn grass. Old rocks lend their stories, wet spray of the winter sea, speaking in voices more eloquent than my translation, hoping to sing us all home in the remaining light.                    

Feeling of Being Alive

Ideas give way to feeling, feeling to the essential – the mystery of a moon lit tide, the rise and fall of life in trees. Jupiter’s pass through winter’s sky; endless beauty and the sharp edge where we dwell, angels yet not. Sun streams across the ocean everything lifts in thanks, the oldest ceremony the […]

Elder Face

My head aches, the bones in my hand throb, their stories of punishment coming out in skeletal code. Icy fog covers the valley; as I struggle to rise from the dream depth into now the face of an elder looks back across the room. Etched with years of solitude, unflinching, no expectation, pain a part […]

Midnight Blue

Color is her gift to us, lifting from the dream-dark sleep of winter a bright orange promise. From ancient cities below the sea, to the unborn waiting in the midnight blue of her future.                    

Sitting in the Dark

Sitting in the dark before first light I feel you in the air, the warmth of the fire. Extraordinary and simple in tea with leaves from India, honey from the devotion of bees and a small silver spoon stirring, speaking subtly as the morning does with the glowing spark of all that awakens.    

How She Holds Us

Something luminous waxes within as I watch the moon rise full again upon the Earth, telling its old tale once more. The mysteries of gain and loss, of all who loved and failed to love or find their way on the path of pale light glimmering in the forest. Speaking in silence through all our […]

Knowledge of a Seed

High in the gray sky tall firs sway in a wind not felt beside the pond, abandoned by geese and ducks even in this mild winter. I plod along the empty path, and watch branches above wave in somber colors, as I wave to the lives I’ve lived, gone like the geese of winter. I […]

Gathering for the Rise

Naked branches shorn of green tremble in the winter wind, buds closed yet full of life, turned upward in the morning sky while below the work of birth continues; dark earth and root gathering for the rise and sail of leaf.