depleted
of energy,
a weight of gold
upon my heart,
its heavy dull luster
pushes down hard
squeezing out
        the light
suffocating
    my staccato
of breath
     I crouch        
quietly
in the brush,
the next step in
my process
                 pending
a dense rock
of pendulum
swaying time
  tick ticking
in my blood
cells reaching
the boiling point
just shy
of spilling over
into froth
waiting for
this conundrum
        to unravel,
my inner tigress
about to unfurl
             her heart
    to leap
and pounce
from
   within
into the
  tight
white
          of blinding
snow, the silent
storm of  
      the unknown
forever

What voice has the Earth
but yours.

Poetry and headaches
go together
like presidents
and lies

I split open
        right down
the center of
   my lit-up blue
                of throat,
gutterally lush
        into deep green
tumbled brush
forest heartwave
zipping straight
between the sloping
landscapes of *******
as the heavens
          take me in,
                temper my
weathered blasts
of tempest
that have thrown me back
unto the wall of ether
Impacting through
the fibers of time and
spatial relativity,
the poisoned burns
along my spinal chord
                   crackle
with the scent of sage
and a
savory-flavored wisdom
of a more enlightened age
Yes, the time
for cleansing has come
and, as electricity
trips off my energetic crown
I can only see hazy
                         ribbons of
                   purple light        
          becoming
       one large
             sea of dreams
                        fully expanded
It is time
for visionquest and
I must make ready,
arms taking in the world
preparing for
silent battle
wordless in whisperings
yet ready to howl
           
I sit back on
my haunches
eyes on lookout
heart alight
in licks of green fire
my weapons hidden
my eyes that of a child
ever soft, pliable
ready for all to happen
and I must gather
my own children 'round
like a she-wolf
surround them with the
            timeless protection
                          of my breath
               as ancient spells
re-alight in the sparks
and a wispiness, like smoke
envelopes my being
By daybreak,  
         my old soul
will align
and dance with
           all the new
        I can
possibly
muster
or even
       think
to  
     bear