From this day forward
the landscape unknown –
no map, no signpost,
no tradition repeats;
Earth herself a carapace
shaken and shed
by inner truth
into the embrace
of the stars.

The lion in me waits
hungry for unseen light,
gnawing on a hollow bone,
gathering strength
from a river beneath the Earth.

The warranty said limited life

but it is summer,

my daughters are here

with their own children

and I’m still alive, rising

with the sun like vapor

from dew soaked grass;

the ancient river always new

descends to an unseen ocean

as I gather and hold these days,

born again with the soft voice

of a three year old, crossing

the porch in her shiny red boots

to say good morning.

Winds gust from the south
pushing the flood tide
into gravel reaches,
soaking the stone feet
of an ancient rock wall
with images carved
by all that’s gone before.
Vigilant in what is yet to come
and from this place between
past writ and future dream
I call to you, joining us
across the great distance,
with all the desire of rock and sea
to be alive in just this moment.