Ways to get back home, winding on these roads
down to the salty sea, taste of ocean on my tongue
yet still far off the summer berries and plums.
Traveling along, while yesterday moves on
we rest, we run, stopping to start again.
Like water rushing over, this ice of melting river
waiting for the warmth of summer
the scented pine boughs we'll gather
sweet amid the winging of birds and singing.
These glints of dreaming, the trick of spiders weaving
strong in the face of the wind, blown apart
to pick up and start again.
There is a holiness in the wind
these wisps of diaphanous clouds that fly
always I smile in the gentlest of winds that kiss
oh, but I do not like the harshness of winds that whip
how they come to blow the hollow of darkness
toward the light again, things buried underground
places - like death, the stabbing pains
I've met, awakened
seeing and feeling.
I cannot stand these cages we make
see how we fly, how we try to be free
I have let go of every bird, I've ever thought I had
I see them in dreams now and then
I watched their wings turn against or away from the wind
saw some tattered, fly home again.
I loved the swoop and dive
the diaphanous delight of downy feathers
in winter, gathering cozy all around me
I am mesmerized by dark wings
the trick and glint of light
it warms like fire, a place
to dream by.
I think it quite strange living here, walled by this house
when I was wilder than now, I lived in nature
stalking birds and pollen laden, blooming things
always my toes in sands or hot footed in summer
I was in love with the sky, no matter the weather
in storms I hid beneath branching cedars
sleeping on mossy pillows, in the woods of my backyard
I never gave much thought to houses then, I only went there
to sleep or eat and waited to leave again
waited for an inkling of sun to warm the cold grass
spent days climbing trees, red plums and cherries
I imagined that's how life would always be,
living outdoors under the sun or clouds
wet with rain, always picking flowers.
In the trees, through the leaves came crescent shadows
tiny silhouetted scooped moons upon the ground
without sound, black the round disappearing sun
in ways it came highlighting the shining of souls
and felt around the globe, shined like gold, like silver
like our shimmering days of lakes wet in rain forest waters
you and I on a path coming together, moving further and further
traveling through woods and smokes, traveling home
with a head full of smoke and eyes that cannot see me
my love I am truly in the fire.