Sometimes half asleep, scribbling words
or waiting for the morning sky to deliver birds
I fall off the edge, leave this tiny bed
float on rainy streets, there is no one that I meet
only a corner vacant house, where precious paintings hang
I am staring in the window, at flowers yellow, blue
this must be the room of Vincent Van Gogh, this starry night
with lily ponds so beautiful, fields of flowers
purple iris, Monet meadows
brown skin woman, hibiscus flowered
island scenes of Paul Gauguin, so brightly colored
there are pastel Degas dancing ballerinas
Marc Chagall, blue indigo people
without legs, they smile surreal
this museum of the mind
minutes like hours
turned sublime

two birds
a sky disappearing
lost in clouds with you
soft cotton, downy feathers blue
now soon the end of day
gives way, dark as indigo
black, as light strays away
we bathe neath blinking stars
through windows sparkling blue
candles of the moon, our room
of fruits and wildflowers strewn
here we lay, only to die
only to bloom

Black geese on the waves today
crashed, then flew away
blackness was the water
that called my name, late
and never again the same
deep dark well, a cave
I went looking in, the deeper
I go, ever an echo
that calls my name
naked, stripped of shame
my heart revealed
never again
the same

Along this pilgrimage made
with candles lit by the sun, a holy desert communion
seeking connection to the one, here in this fiery church
I have found lost souls, sun bleached bones
they drink the moon and sun
saguaros wander to and fro
all are parched none are full
cactus leaning, I am kneeling
here at this earthly altar
awaiting resurrection
I have come to pray
watching nights and days
these veils burn away.

Pretty they said, oh but it was summer
when she bloomed, and wildfires came along
dancing across fields - wind songs
blowing through her mind
and there she stayed
sleeping much too late
to flee the lake of fire

It felt at first - tangled, then more of an unraveling
hair in hands vanished, how softness fell
swept across the room, and soon
shadows in the sky
lost in moon fog's tide
glowing, the shining of two souls
the seek and hide
the reappearing of
you and I

Walking this trail, all is strange
I am still round, remembering the rain
this desert with its saguaro looking people, my friends
snakes and the hissing heat of day, now crawl away
into the melting sea sky of orange, red
into the indigo rising, turning black
no sound of cities, no world out there to cry
only the calling of stars, musical notes
songs twinkling in time with
the hot honey yellow moon.