The borderland between this world
and the other is a lonely place,
fearful and unvisited by those
who prefer daylight
and the comfort of sleep.
I walk beneath the tall trees,
communing with the stars
above the darkened forest,
an outrider in the night
where life force rises
and the mystic becomes real.
Like the druids of old I relish silence,
find my place between heaven and earth.
Though I rail too often
against the violence of man
I offer you the kiss of peace
before my footprints quickly disappear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “Walking the Borderland” with music by Alexey Rybnikov

The sun comes bright
over the awakening city
as we rise to daylight
with memories of what was,
hopes for what is yet to be.
We walk alone but not apart,
each of us cells in the larger body,
moving together despite all distance;
blood here, breath there,
taking nourishment,
releasing what’s unneeded.
It may seem wise
to believe yourself alone
but this is the origin of despair.
Remember who lives behind
those drug hollowed eyes
staring up from her sidewalk bed,
the soldiers dying in mud squalor,
the ones who answer the siren calls
in the panicked night.
You make a sacrifice for the body
or perhaps you won’t
but if you know the precious gift
join me in a prayer
for all who walk the earth
upon this sunlit morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of Precious Gift with music by Van Morrison

Camas spreads in lilac waves
beside a slack tide sea;
seals fish along the rocks,
gulls plaint their echoing calls,
songbirds sing from the thorny brush.
Snow covered peaks rise in the distance,
the sky pale blue with white clouds
barely moving in a windless sky.
Divining the peace in my heart
most of me lies below the water line
in the depth that silence brings;
part rests above in the high branches,
still as an eagle looking over the beauty
of this green island home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “Camas Waves” with music by Maryliz Smith

I’m up early for the hour of quiet
when the awakened earth softly steps
into the garden of becoming.
Sunlight touches the sea,
trees drink deep in the forest
and I sip on the cup of peace
offered to each searching soul
who rises with the dawn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “Cup of Peace” with music by Aaron Copland

Eagles sing in the tall firs
as light bathes the island;
songbirds call out,
the air rich with music.
I’m not as quiet as the trees
though my roots sink and spread
in the web of beauty.
I tried cleansing the world
but my work was here
scraping the rust
off this carriage of soul
and filling it
with the sound of birds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “Carriage of Soul” with music by Bill Evans