Original life seemed too uncertain,

trees needed conversion like pagan fancies

the civility of a wiser priesthood;

black dirt and running streams

hid fortunes from our childlike vision.

All that changed, thankfully,

with massive cities and industrial might,

little left to the dark unknowing

beyond the reach of grid and fence;

now we exist in the embrace of certainty

awakening to the future that may be ours.

I should write about the fights I lost,

about bigger angels and the punishment they exact,

the feeling in the gut when the tide shifts

and everything underfoot is washed away;

like an oyster with a root into rock

taking a bath because ocean is all there is,

hanging on to the scarred and broken edges,

never certain what’s forming in the hard spot

while wrapping fiercely against the tiny stone

that won’t give up, won’t let go.

for the people of Egypt and Tahrir Square

Strength comes with the morning

from a troubled dream

to the gray palette of winter sky

inviting a hidden self

to awaken beyond the body,

emerge from the dark earth of soul

with the nourishment of that depth

and rise like Lazarus, born again

to the beauty of this life

with destiny bubbling

from ancient ground

toward all those reaching

for freedom.

I want to break over the horizon

and shine my inner light

on the frost covered earth,

feeling the boundless

just one more time,

free from the shroud

of mystery.