Life wears me out with its
twists and turns, and
hairpin curves.
I keep waiting for a
long, peaceful stretch
of highway, bathed in
the rising sun.
A golden wheatfield to
to the left, a moss covered
pond with dragonflies to
the right.
The road turns to gravel,
and climbs rapidly uphill.
There are signs along the
way that promise the world.
The road gradually turns
to dirt, and ultimately
disappears.

As a child, the 80 acres seemed like the whole world, with its ponds and streams and sunlit meadows.
It looked like Eden to my young eyes.
I chased the lambs and dragonflies, caught tortoises and toads.
The banks of the streams looked like cliffs to me, as I watched the suspended shadows of the bluegill in the water below.

With July's on broil, I found shade beneath a black locust tree, and tried to figure out, how I could use the thorns as fish hooks, to catch dinner for the night.
Evening set the sky on fire and the clouds were all a blaze.
Passion found me early, so much land, and nothing but time.

Then dusk turned gently into night and the summer Moon looked sad, like a giant porch light left on, for a lover that's never coming home.
As I lay in bed the cicadas buzz tucked me in, and from the pond came to bullfrog sad song, and I knew he was lonely like me.

She's like deliquescent caramel,

the cool side of a pillow

        to lay your weary head,

subtleties of springtime &

          warmth in wintertide,

whispering hope upon lush  

        Zephyrus pipe dreams,  

    mellifluous nymph with wings

                 of a butterfly warrior,

softly determined,

    unfailingly true-hearted,

       whilst relentlessly ferocious

  Wise, yet sometimes struts

        blindly in the light,

       as dulcet tones of a cello's

           melodious marmalade

            in sentiment's tender fancy,

she's beauty, charm,

         knowledge, poetry,

               utter strength,

               & humane weaknesses,

she's twisted and ethereal,

           her aura sublimely captivating

     you may covet her body,

            you'll never possess her soul

Somewhere in between the no-
longer & the still-
to-come
A young women lingering
up above the world so high
On a snow peak in the sky.

Worshiping the sun;
Not the saint -- come it, what may.

Occult spirit burnin. Whirlwind turning.
Incarnated ego be ripped away,
Wind swirling. Spirit turning.
Shower of sparks
Enclosing brightness in dark.
She is a divinatory
Left by society
dazzling
blooming
heedless
heathen

Her eyes glowing
As ethereal stars subside
  And a lonely moon leisurely climes
into heavenly arena
somnambulantly converging with the zenith
Negating nebulous perspectives  
Incandescently filling the void

Resurrecting the chthonic biome—
Reaching out, with new green shoots – invoke life
from within the molten core—purple with an edging of vermillion—
By sunrise to a full-fledged conflagration
Fledgling millennium into oblivion.
Each night-blooming cereus--the crucifix


Blessed Paradox--
Stillness and Motion;
Drifting throughout the cosmos
In a downward motion .

Coming of age--


In sunshine and in shadow



Near rippling rills, kissing a gentle breeze.
Down below green pasture land,
Oranges go bronze, the reds, maroon,
Wherever a grand koa does not stands,
a leeward streamlets flow.


and No mortal could control enigmatical

Between heavenand earth--
stratum lunacy of vertigo

Belay my soul to an island.

I'll leave a note in a bottle
Tied to the end of the rope
At the bottom of the collapsed
magma chamber.

Approach the overhang
rappel


  stalactites and stalagmites