I guess it’s the way
you look out of windows
on cold blue mornings
that leave me speechless,
the way you speak quietly
almost like a prayer,
your questions do not
require a single answer.
I am happy to remain
silent in my observations,
I am happy that nature is
the companion of intelligence,
I do not call society my friend,
I am the master of my own
bewilderment …
Clay.M

Sometimes I sit
on this mountain
avoiding my reflection,
until my mind becomes
a mirror of memories,
I am close enough to
the sun to call her a friend.
Mixed emotions swirl
in the night sky as they
always have done,
at times the stars look sad
like distant cities and the
moon with its many faces
so desperately wanting
to be loved. I will stay here
until the angry wind blows
away these heavy clouds,
and my beard has grown
long and grey, I will walk
down this mountain wild eyed!
enlightened, insane!
like a bible story
like a wounded animal
washed clean - free of all sin,
ready to congregate again
in the warm embrace of
simple poetry …
Clay.M