As stars uncuffed from

their silver circuit...speeding

off into a legendary openness,

to long live a single look

of no return...

man o man, woman o woman.

As sunlight commuted
through clouds in
fell surges...
the grassy plain
looked like the edge
of the earth, moving
in reverse...
rushing toward me
seated under a tree,
wowing at its leaving
nothing untouched...
Nothing's Untouched.

There's a being seated
at the window...the breaking
ends of perception mothering
their pearl.
Its prayerful poise electrifies
the passing light of day...
hideous and beautiful
blending blindly.
Purple with majesty, as a distant
mountaintop crammed through
the eye of a needle...pointedly
soul through the driftings of its
original score.
Unlit senses that can't place
their miraculous conveyance...
entering and exiting the same window
simultaneously.
Aware that it's aware...there are troubles
in paradise of only supreme Authoring,
as latent creation forthwith heartbreak.
Pounding its very chest...with oceanic
spanning--faces upon faces of The Deep,
Diane Arbus photoing a featureless form.

Words help themselves

to the hollows

of meaning...the way

red runs red...and the

Heart loves its brilliant

passage.

Occasion for beauty
bent on sake...
as one blue opening
with the yellow
press of that day star...
overcome to the point
of self-embrace.

Without a perceptual safety,

reality would

strip naked, as infinite

lovers wearing

each other's

eyes.

No space is inconsequential...
wherever you may be, for
however long, change is noted
on the deepest level, the most
loving level.
How can a passing thought,
a passing bird, on a passing
wind be inconsequential?