Walk with me,
Tethered in interlocked fingers,
The gravel path, rain-stricken,
Petrichor mingling with pollen,
Tickling our olfactory senses,
Perfumed in her elegance.

Walk with me,
Through verdant wonderlands,
Where arboreal creatures dart in the rustling flora,
How their almond eyes spy,
Our synchronized steps as we tread the landscape,
Finding our great escape amidst the ancient giants.
Sit with me,
Under the umbrella of shade,
Where the canopies provide a light show,
As the sun’s beams dance in between the shadows,
Creaking through the cracks and holes within the curves of green,
We can be in silence, save for the avian symphonies,
And the fluttering of wings as falling tufts of feather puff,
Fall from their eager strides along the wind jet.

Fall into me,
As we watch the daylight die,
Tropicana citrus palette painted,
With the hints of pinkish Lilly and lilac purple,
Strike upon the dimming light,
We can watch the pearlescent dots flood the sky,
Under the careful watch of their mother,
As her waning half shyly hides behind the blanket of deep indigo.

Be with me,
In this dark cozy embrace,
Where the navy blue cascades through our forested restaurant,
A pyramid of dried logs, light to a flick and a flame,
The orange glow dances like a ballerina,
Interpretive in its many shapes and tendrils reaching skyward,
I’ll cook for you, a simple steak, buttered and brined,
Sautéed with picked mushrooms,
And asparagus,
Grilled marked and fire etched,
Medium rare, like these little moments.

Eat with me,
While fireflies strobe about us,
And moths surround the embers,
While diamonds sparkle above,
Winking eyes that encourage this,
A simple kiss on anxious lips.

Famished languished fingers reach skyward
As parched sea-salt-dried mouths open
Barely even a whimper escapes into the distance
Bemoaning in unison like gulls calling.

We wished for a future,
Devoid of reality
Avoidant of the derelict
Consumed with digital consumption —
While soiling the very veins of tree roots.

We make gods out of flawed humans
Who sings siren songs or plays the part in plays
Collecting praise and earthy riches,
Gold coin amnesia to sell their bodies for a hit of applause.

Meanwhile, our churches are empty,
The pews collect dust,
No one remembers his name
No one praises in fear or love
It’s pedestrian, mundane, a common act
Meaningless like Valentine’s Day
We took the magic and turned it into paper collage art.

It happened with a crack of the world,
A thunderous voice anguished across black clouds
And strikes of lightning showing enraged veins
And birds, like angels, fell from the heavens,
Crashing upon the rain-stained and wetted soil.

We should have heeded the warning.

As the fires are burning,
Scorching skin to cement
Melding bone to iron rod,
California is lost, gone to the water
Drunk from the ocean,
Sand storms from the Valley of Death
Filling their orifices
Swath away the faithless in a single blow.
And behold the rising of the deep below.

Ashes befoul the air like a rainstorm
Choking oxygen from the lungs,
We bathed in the currents of poisoned waters
And bore children in chimeric horrors,
Cosmic old ones stir under their beds uncomforted
As the earth stirs, and breaks her silence.

Death would be a simple act of grace and mercy
If only to watch along purgatorial veils of fog
As we sing like beached sirens.

A hymn to the skyward palisades
Where no one is there to listen.