By these woods I've come, wildly green
mossy step of days, long the forest rain
refresh my breath, breathe deep of trees
hovering grey ghostly steam
the smoking warmth of sun that comes
to sing with birds, perched upon
soft sword and leather fern
laced with berries wild
and faeries good
sing green of home
they wildly roam, safe amid
the bracken woods

Gathering chaparral, just after rain
sticky leaved, miniscule, green
tiny bundles, scented woody
now one, with earthen hands
under a winter moon, garland star stitched
pitch of juniper, pinion fire
only a dalliance this
fragrant desert
pyre

If we could go shining
glinting gold off water
far and flying, doves
words would never falter
only sweet, to sing of home
falling gently from soft reddened lips
then we as flowers would ever bloom like song

I will see you in the field of days
in the blue or grey of thundering storms
though wild rivers change course
and I lose ground, you steadfast remain
you are the rousing dawn of birdsong
the silver sun of white light flashing
you are the wind, a whisper, a kiss
upon my face, that lifts my sullen eyes
all the tears, your infinite ocean washes away
and I am left upon the shore, where only love remains

When I wake in winter, to howling winds
a head of dreams still swirling, spins
my body aches forlorn, bury myself warm
sometimes half asleep, upon the pillow
fall back, softly deep
witness myself surreal
float, I walk or run through
strangest worlds, hurled through
time, I climb upside down
back out, from dreams - awake
eerily shiver, winter's cold
to shake

Old books, older still the dust
lost library, forgotten world of words
through vertical windows, distorted glass
of years past, watch shapes of trees
colored birds fly by
dusty poem, room of
melancholy
rhyme

Black and white photos
framed upon the mantle
how long our memories
shining wild, to light a room
how long do we think them
ever full bloom

It was Spring, late May
and I so late, for class
poetry lessons of Mr. Davis
the hours, soon and fast
how warmth would come
a fleeting sort of sun
language poured rain
cried words
never again
the same

Nights, we take the boat out
paddle our way, green through water
swum by inlet waves, full moon apace
shadowy, ancient tribal faced
lose all trace of shore, black
but for phosphorescence
glowing, trailing from the oars
a haunting, ghostly art
green and breathing, disappearing
back into darkness, swallowed
by black water, by night
strange this death
the rebirth and breath
felt in each and every moment

Of trees, the whirling of leaves
how soon the days, changing
streets of rain, storms of grey
winter winds, chilling
sleep, I dream of love and lilies green
imagine how words softly fall
disappearing, now swift I go
beyond, lose my mind
to all

How like a fever this red sky burns of fire
impossible sun, hot orange ember
never to grasp, melts so quick the day
a fire extinguished, vanishes into night
black sea of coal, this place
colorless my sight
sinks slight, my heart with sorrow
drifts ever in night's darkness
ever into the unknowns
of tomorrow

Ecola park
misty rain of
late September
overlooking blue seas
a gathering of birds and flowers
wild ocean of
you and I
together

Today, far and away
beyond, we've gone
from one another
still there are days
listening for your name
strange how my garden blooms
lonely, bright colors of you
strange, watching petals fall
fading into winter

This house, it does not speak of me
I am unknown to these adobe walls
these cool clay floors
I press my feet against
wanderlust, I dance
desert nights alone, roam
these sands to drink
and drink of moon
thirst for stars
to call me home

I travel endless nights
painted blue with black
wait until sunlight
warms my room
once more to bloom
in wild fields
with you

Under these pines, these bougainvilleas
petals blow across the wind
red sails on gravel sands
clouds blue laced black
pitch of hurried birds fly
disappear in darkest skies
a sudden storm at the window pounds
slant of raindrops crash
splash of puddles, the iridescent ground
sun bursts through a field of clouds
the desert pure redolence, calm
a silent rainbow touching down

Cool December rains
sticky desert chaparral
fragrant mistletoe

Stillness bathes my room, the stars have gone
slow sweeps the light of dawn
watery windows breathe of cold
spider mandala art has gone
now sleeps the garden green
of gorgeous lily bowers
silence has come
the quiet of flowers
falling down

Nights, when I don't see you
trailing in stars
or by the light of moon
however bright
blackness takes my sight
a shooting star - I fall
back to everything
and nothing
at all

Driving south
only cactus go by
my skin hot, dry
peel of my lips
taste how sweat drips
melt behind this wheel
sink into surreal
this road to Mexico
slow the air of black crows
slow the circling of death's bones
cool riverbed, just ahead
driven from my home
drift, I float this desert ocean
dance this floor
alone

High in hills, drift the clouds - of sun it kills
wind barren path strung low with lichen laid
starry flowers, pale white, soft a blanket made
amidst dawn's dewy moss, footprints pressed
leading up and outward toward the day
the sky, through all of time, only a spiral
how earth makes it's way

You lingered far too long
with rain clouds, your morning fog
I waited in mists of rain, the days
for sun to warm, to wrap it's arms once more
to watch the steam of scented cedars
I sat silent under great trees
of a rhododendron forest
kept looking for buds
a hint of flowers
to come

Still lingering, clouds meandering
layered upon this lazy blue day
birds fly in and out of view
surrounded by mountains
as if a painting, surreal
the desert drinks us dry
leaves us far behind
there is no separate mind
we sit for days and nights amidst the sands
breathe in sync with this sacred land
chasing butterflies from our heads
losing all the words ever said
day is nearly done, the time has come
soon to sleep and dream
never of this place
again

Your eyes are polished amber stones
gold flecked, honey brown
a warm spring of waterfalls
our love, a whispering river call
we, a silhouette of wild birds
winging amid a
softened world

To the trees, to sun
to birds and the ways of love
to breath - I thank you

Tonight in this garden
a million flowers boom
clouds of gypsophila loom
at my window and beyond
with fragrant vines, that crawl
saturate, scented paper walls
these night lilies, only a dalliance
that blooms and fades
your hands soft upon my legs
we are drunk from dulcet wine
sung from the whisper of moon that dips
caress of your reddened lips
all other time is now lost
as we travel this world
lilting softly slow

Green the day, that moves in waves
of gentle blowing winds your way
sweet you slept, caressed
on mossy laden ground
silent ripples on blue lily pond
I, a singing bird of sun
that calls to you in the middle of a dream
hearts, water lilies - opening
adrift in the middle of a song
we, two singing birds
of only love

Of you,
I speak of
softest petals
always kissing
flowers full bloom
wet drops -  your reddened lips
pour darkest cherry wine
all the day
watercoloring
my skies

Looking at apples, my mouth of juice
longing to taste one delicious bite
I stand under this tree
for days

I climbed many a splintered fence
saw you from a great distance
sturdy branches, your arms
leafy crown of thorns
and charms

In trees where ravens fly
from blackest skies
to shelter storms
days of clouds
and cruel raining winds
where even strongest branches falter

blue, how salt corrosion eats away
falling leaves, dead decay
here, then gone away
oh and there were rivers
climbed upstream
sleeping to lose yourself
in dreams

red the rust
of a long vacant stay
cold, the break away
how grey rains sway
uncaring of our names

orchard of trees
the dying bees
our fruit hung, with disease
lost to blight
falling to
our knees

If you could look my way
maybe you would
stay?

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.

In those days we shined, reflected like mirrors
pebbles thrown, ripples wind blown, your heart
it was silk upon my lips, soft butterfly wings
we grew like trees, to the clouds
in downy feathered love
floating amidst the fleeting sky
of our sunset - leaving

I have traveled home
I am nearly reborn
sitting with ancestral bones
a warrior's path - alone
sifting veiled dust
of the past

Crows fly, blacken skies
thunderous drums
my heart in sync
amid this sacred
burial ground
this raining red sky
the blood of teardrops cried

Giant skyward leaning
shedding leaves, do you dream long
of summer's greening?

The gold of days have waned
the gray rains sway
fall will leave you
cold in winter's lay.

Seemingly a thousand years old
a seedling sown
born of an ancient
maple forest.

When I dream this desert turns green, blooms
clouds race where mountain lions loom
ash gray, the cool of blue rain comes
a redolent wind of desert sea
rushing waves, sand blown
sculpted saguaro forests
pale flowered yellow
drinking every drop
now this eve we drink
now before another dawn
of the mad thirsty sun

My lips are cracked leather
lizard dry, my breath melts into mirage
beetles emerge from dark caves
in flashes of iridescence, crawling
surreal sand paintings, their tiny tracks
art for cactus wren, hunting

Here, beyond yet another
sparkling diamond mound
lies a wild sea of the sailing ships, I've found

Oh, sure I could lose myself in gardens, oceans of flowers
but not today, today I have reserved for the revelations
of the soul, the deep calling of watery waves
I dive below, rocky ways and slipping sands
sifting moments of this day, searching
for unknown pieces, that break away
feeling a longing unnamed
glints of gold reflections
all these connections
that carry me home
and away

In this world
starry eyed, we bloom
petals silk your lips, sing
sweet violet songs to me
a drifting scented dream
blue sea of you and me

How can I ever paint the sky with mere words?
my language, pales northern lights
waves of color impossible to derive
from ghostly glowing skies
spirit merges, flies

Oh, bird how can you sing?
and today of all days you bring
little twigs and colors green
to fall among dead flowers.
Do you know of this lost garden?
How can your heart beat so
amidst such troubled, sorrow?
Still you fly joyous in the morning sky
lighting hearts afire in the early dawn
long before the sun.

Gone,
the warm summer grass we laid upon
in daisy dreams of gold, yellow suns
today walking barefoot on the lawn
cool rain awakes the autumn dawn
dewdrops disappearing in the ground
a chill has come with breath cold lungs
to breathe upon the earth and trees
bringing summer's fire to her knees
and with a final gasp will swallow
molting leaves red and gold
falling to the earth
fallow

When after night has flown, starry blue
to other lands, until tomorrow
when just before the light of dawn
in streams of gold upon the lawn
the world still violet hued, pinkish blue
soon bursts on fire, a blaze of red
silence is the wind upon the clouds
silence of colors, the sky speaks aloud
rearranging the mind, the heart like petals
of a million flowers all abloom

How kind the early day came
smiling through our window
soft as yellow, pale blue shone through
lavender infusions of deep indigo
a scented morning tea, this herbal garden

awake from dreaming, night is weaving
it's final star into the dawn
we are sleepy as flowered penstemon
waiting for the gold of sun

our hearts open
lotus flowers floating
ever peaceful
this tranquil
pond

Walking the dirt path, down around
the gold brown hills that spill into the orchard
apples baked in the oven, sun of summer
and in September they are done
red, we dressed with honey, cinnamon
the air was bliss, the trees, the ancient harvest
with baskets full and too our hearts had overflowed
this was a place we called heaven and now you are in the trees
in the sweeping fields of turquoise seas, in the stars that never cease
here, where you once imagined and could only dream to remain as ever

Cedar tree, your arms wild in the wind
red bark, blue rain that comes again
storm drenched, looking where we've been
sponge mud footprints, left herein
and in the gold of days there is incense, sunning
warmth soaking the green forest in
a path leading outward
that leads back in
whispers awaken the
soul within

I am lost in mourning winds, a desert sand drift
a dandelion wisp buried in ocean depths
an emptiness in the blue of longings
this traveling is slow mud, I trudge
blue red fields of life's blood
the disappearing of the ones I love
they have flown far and gone
leaving me to linger
looking for the sun
the moon to come
and so I walk on