One night soon I will follow the moon’s path
across the wide channel and over the islands
to the white cap mountains
where ice gleams in moonlight.
I will find the place where ravens are born,
the kingdom of wind sound and silver tipped forest.
The golden path across the water will take me
and one night soon there I will go.

Let the river wash me,
the moss and brown duff
soften my footprint,
the flicker of bird wings
quiet desire.
Moonlight paints the land
in a silver unseen ‘til I rise
and enter the night.
Clouds boil through the valley,
trees awash with summer rain;
every sign and signal given.

The incoming waves
gather in forceful pulse
yet when vision softens
to the breadth before shore
long fingers of desire appear
beneath oncoming wave
reaching out from tree and rock
with passionate welcome
for the incoming flow
drawing color and sound
to the roots of the land
the earth filling with ocean
as She reaches again
with the same delicate fingers
for the next great pulse
of power and light
renewing wave upon wave
with undying genesis.

The water lies still
between dark and first light,
without dawn’s warmth
to raise the wind.
In that quiet space
the movement toward morning
a rich vein of silence.

The wind is cold on rock point

gulls cry out echoing aloneness

crows bark to protect their young fledges

as eagle rides the thermals.

It’s warmer in the cabin, easier

to drink tea within the comfort

than here where the air bites

and a grey chill presses down.

She’s found Herself

emerged from Her chrysalis;

I see Her moving upon the water

lifting with the gusts

that blow the rushing tide.

I will be known in this place

my life force dropping into bedrock

reaching out to the occasional seal

and rippling water stretching to the distance.

Long bronze grasses bend in the wind

sun breaks from a mass of clouds;

She is awake in Her subtle movement;

this is the moment I live for.