Somewhere the ocean rages
with waves like cliffs
and shrieks of wind;
somewhere rivers fall
with the gracefulness of snow
yearning to the sea;
somewhere a man
gathers in the dark interior
holding a stone
with the essence of water,
kneeling on dirt
and seeing in his mind
the rising ocean
and stone lined cataract,
turning images to diamonds
by the compression of his heart,
the ray of light
from the mouth of the cave
drawing him back to life.

In his presence
memory returned
of another world
with riches of truth,
of what life means
beyond the animal,
but then the man was gone,
quickly as a bird
with fluttering sound,
barely an image
and what was left
but the long curving path
up the high mountain,
not to the top
but near enough
to stand in the clouds.

(for Kay)

She could worry again
from the long list
voracious in their appetite,
the noise of their engines
rippling through the night,
betraying the dark
surrender of root
with money, sex,
what might have been
reliable actors
ready for their roles;
instead she chose
the line from her diary
when she stopped to look
through the convent window
and saw the universe
in shape of a cloud,
the vibrancy of blue
speaking directly to her
and again this night,
encouraging the barking dogs
to be still and know
the life that’s always present.

There’s always time for work
getting done what the clock demands,
with the tireless cogs ticking forward
as the creek settles from spring flush
and clouds clear to a spray of blue;
in the river there’s only movement
so I pause here in the rushes
keeping an eye on the clouds,
letting the blue settle into my eyes
before I dive into the flow,
only a pause yet it means everything.