Scratch a few notes in pencil,
erase and feed them to the fire.
With your soul at risk
what the fire burns is not your worry –
that is the closed room, the barred door,
one last lock without a key.
The tide shifts and water rushes south.
Scribble your last pleas for freedom,
then give way to the moon.
Break down the door
and let the wild one go free,
if only for the morning.
photograph by Ann Foorman
Reading of “Give Way to the Moon” with music by Faces.
Comfortable in the dark waste
of twisted roots,
life broke the hardpan
forcing me to surface.
The morning light blinded,
a deafening sound of birds.
What to do in this madhouse
of awakening?
No return to the labyrinth,
no way down through the asphalt.
Nothing left but plum tree blossoms,
and the sounds of children.
Perhaps I’ve gone mad,
beyond all reason,
yet I open like dirt
to break out with flowers
trembling in spring glory.
photograph by Dennis Brown
Reading of “Trembling in Spring Glory” with music by Seu Jorge.
Suffer the windswept ocean,
the cold air and crested waves
on this patch of green.
An aquifer of imagination
lies underground in pools,
rising through the roots of trees
and the sound of orcas breathing.
Down in the dark water,
up into evergreen towers,
I mingle with the gods of earth and sea
and sing all praise to the rain-cast morning.
Reading of “Sing All Praise” with music by Seu Jorge.
When injuries of deception
corrupt the well, orchards shrivel,
and predators roam the streets.
Warm a cup of silence
on the fires of sacrifice;
empty the warehouse
of useless thought.
Stalking inner peace,
let fly the arrow of solitude
and devour the meat
of holy intention.
photograph by Louis MacKenzie
Reading of “Devour the Meat” with music by Ahura.
