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.