Tracking through the old growth,

rain at the edge of the world.

Knowing the rapture has

no plan for me .

Just rejoicing in the rain

and the wind .

My heart bleeds creations blood.

Stardust formed my being .



Burning wildflowers

coat my dreams

in a smoking glaze

of eternity’s memories.



I find myself outside

salvations promise.

My breath cuts the depth

of melancholy’s theft .

Unstable in the passing

of grace .



Preferring to take the

apple right off the tree.

Smelling the fresh cut grass.

Plunging my fingers deep into

the rich black dirt of freedom.



Intrigued by utopian desires.

Pushing me to my rubicon

                               my idiom.



Always knowing what’s

my guiding light .

As the moons out of focus

through the trees.

Bound to the trees
left to the ages.
Swallowed in the mists
of Avalon.
A child becomes
a woman grown .

Hoping for a revelation
that quells my tears
of grief .

My pride endures
quite heavenly.
My bouyant breath
explodes
into a riot of pines,
mountains and moonlight mists .

From a deeply shadowed
valley holding the mountains at bay .
I drink remorse and
crumble to sadness.

Coyotes prowl my
midnight shivers.
centuries of tenacious trees
tripping down a
tangled path of regrets .

The last vestige of
seconds ticking.
Countless , infinity lost
in the River Glen of the
morning sun .

As the Ferryman crosses
the River calling .
These hours
these hours
possessed .

Crucified, vilified her faith eroded,
heeding the call of the open road .
To be pushed over the precipice
exiled from all memory, trees exploding
A mist from under the pond .

An exercise in innocence.
Sensual lips , a ***** tattoo .
An ancient haunted terrified voice .
Confessional silence, more smoke than flames .

A journey , searching ,stretching through the ages .
A stand of trees in a yellow meadow.
holding a profound message
guiding her life .

Tiny leaves sing shadows
across a sunlit Doe .

Sparks arise ashes fall
thrones and needles
****** in blood .
Someone ,
sometime
somewhere
will see her heart
and know her truths .

Perhaps in the sanctuary
of the cool dark
mountain air .

Loose lines, mudflats

the lonesome sparrow sings.



The walls around Eden

are gaurded by…

half peace melodies

where rivers birth

my saddest songs .



Cinders in the moonlight

romance sizzling in the desert

has moved to the Tundra.

Pulled by the oppressive

dream of heat lightning.



Trying to silence the

Rivers music.



Screaming eagles ate

the Coyotes howl.

Recessed from the icy

pain of spoiled humanity.

Rivers of sorrow.

Rivers of pain .



Waiting in the reeds

to sacrifice my soul.

Yearning to caress

your intelligence.

Lost in your magic

the flower yet

to be named .


Lamenting that I will

never know your mysteries ,

your melodies

nor the essence of your song .

Your gentleness

or how you found

the way you love .

While Its a loss

I can not know

still it haunts

the River of my soul.



The beating cross

the burden I bear .

Singing out my

saddest songs.

Tears pool at the
feet of mortality.
Candles line the
stonewalls of fate
flickering in the rain .

Cutting a tunnel
through the silence
of the morning .
To elicit forbidden
sensations of
lustful embroidery.
Spiking trees
to save the forest ,
pulling stakes
in civil disobedience.
All within the nuance
of a border town
where the misty swamps
hold  no fever .

Sweeping views of
the hinterlands
with backwater thoughts
In the rain .
I have carried the burden
of a thousand bad decisions
with a sleepy vagabond
gilded halo .

Waiting for the bridge
to be rebuilt
after it burned in the dawn .
Showing me the forest
as I’m stuck in the trees.
Memories really mired
in the mud of
my sacred platte of ground .

Lost in a rainy midnight
silence of fear .
Affliction ,
the laurels of the
fires of adversity.

Lightning flickered
in the stillness of the night .
Quiet but for the distant thunder.

Aware that the silent
rain had ceased.

A cold white mist
on the horizon.
An Eire voice that
sounds like bees.

Am I floating?
Am I alive ?

A choir of innocence
immersed in sorrow.

Standing at the Barb wire
of the saddest place on Earth.
Trying to understand
the unforgivable.

Being led by conscience
and a buzzing mist.
Lifes choices are hard
and usually unfair .
But, you choose
and move on .
Hoping you will not
need to be forgiven.

The path forks through
quiet emotions.
But , the truth is always
well hidden .

Truth hidden in lies

Satan in the books on fire.

Haunted by the educated smoke

and the whispers of knowledge

lost in the wind .



Frightened by the empty soul

who’s facing eternity alone .


Slithering evil in snakes eyes

lightning crawls inside the nerves

welding eyes open in terror.



Confessions of sleepy loneliness

In the restless path that follows

the smoldering residue

and ashes of literature.



Demons in the shadows of dreams

Roughhanded angels deferring

to the resplendent ones

who propagate lies

and burn our books .