Today
silence
a garden
losing ground
cold and deep
my feet in
buried snow
sometimes pale ghosts
of winter whisper
in the footprints
that I follow
long, until the
Spring

She was speaking
butterflies floated from her lips
fragile wings
caressed your mind
together, entwined
you flew

fragrant petals were her pillow
a scented garden filled your room
you were dreaming,
roses soft, laid
upon your bed

a morning of golden sun
compassion, salvation
of sacred dawn

they were barren
void of masks
becoming utterly
love

If these words be thy home
salvation for my soul to dwell in
let them be of love
no beginning
no end

Red table mesas
Whitest clouds dot to dot sky
Healing waters run

She loved the pale moon
he traveled beneath night's sky
woven by starlight

Of Spring I dream...
cool moss alive in verdant green
with cherry flowers - petals fall like snow
our footsteps pressing in
dissolve cold snowy lands
in the heart of sun
love, born of fire
unfolding

Buoyant snowflakes sideways crashed
dripping down grey window glass,
stinging winds blew harsh - the lash
of winter.

High in pines, do they shiver,
nesting birds deeply hidden?
or
do they warmly slumber,
with downy feathers, nestled under,
night's darkest cold, before
the light of dawn?

Sword ferns warming
some unfurling toward the sun
deeper green the moss, grows softly underfoot
forest fog the breadth of morning, breathing
grey of pale lichen clinging

a snow melt creek splashes running
clouds break away, to light the day
the shine of mossy flowers sunning

this church, it has no walls
no doors to lock nor ticking clocks to read
only of the sacred does this wooded temple sing
and I so humbled bow beneath
resplendent evergreens

Who can think straight
spinning in seas of shells and waves?
Tireless tides play a game, of dragging in and out
marooning or tossing one about.
Many sailing ships adrift, you'll see passing by,
or weathered wooden boats, some row and row,
to the edge of earth, foggy
never dreaming they
can fly.

When white wings, feathery scatter
silent as snowflakes gather
resting on rooftops.
In death, does a soul linger,
does it fly in the vastness
of forever?

Like some birds in clouds
we've never seen, though
felt in the rain, and wilds.
Swift a rush that chills
and floods the heart unknown,
a gift of truth reveals
that which eyes cannot look upon,
and only hearts
can feel.

Ceylon cinnamon tea,
cardamon, ginger
from painted cups,
drank she

Ever twisty they climbed - the vines
the tree was speaking low, so slow - the breathing
roots were diving deep, so deep the breath, the depth of grieving
concentric soul, go within to flow, letting go, it's time the past was leaving
born a child, wild as smiles, dance in meadows green
with joy your heart is weaving
and when the night starless looms, you'll bloom  
your heart, open as a flower

The road unpaved, waved in winding red
high pines unfettered, buried feet under needles - strawed

Warmth of sap, fragrant, piney bled
Lithia springs ring clear, a tumbled water song

Owl tree softly spoke
to newborn lily fawn, caressed by mourning cloak

Sun begins to edge the hills
wings rise, and flies the morning fog
Fritillaria bends the light, leaning into
daybreak's mantra song

Far away
it must have been another world or looked a different planet,
the earth red as fire all the mountains wide, dawn of painted skies
banyan trees caressed the landscape, we rested under, dreaming
words echoed through vast rock walls
that seemingly had no end
drifting up and out the canyon, mingling with clouds
to fly away with birds, the words are floating in the air
connecting all the world
in the birdsong
that we hear

Lily white the mountains disappearing into sky,
silence of snow, growing ever deep the day and fades away,
I cannot tell where cloud meets dell, on such a winter's eve.
Night will glow in moon tones, cold the foggy grey,
stars will shine for another, some other world away.
Dark and light, void of color, a palette
in winter shades.

In that place, where swift the sky blackens,
storms steal all the silken, shiny petals,
fading into pale yellow.
Words reign cold as winter rivers,
running dark from the shadows.
Strange roads, desert bones
leave you deathly hollow, searching
for the marrow.

In childhood days of dream, with grassy greens,
and swings we soared the warmest breeze,
in blue skies of laughter.

Under a canopy of wonder,
we laid under, O' the hours of summer slumber,
the lazy slow of watching meadow flowers grow.

Spring it sings in budding greens and seeds
with rain and sun, the days you've grown
acorns planted for rebirth

I press my hands to your trunk
and feel myself divinely rooted to this earth.

Freeing my life force
unblocking meridians
energy balanced

It was as if they wrote only to set us free,
never thinking twice about the landing or flight,
plowing dirt fields, with scores of prose, in sorrow and delight.
In a room of sun, where seasons come
with snow and rain, and none will ever be the same,
long after the reading, and none will ever know the poet's name
or why the words have opened wide
their buried hearts
to grieving.

There were birds, and yesterday's flowers,
the children laughing, never noticed fall retreating
or when winter began, forest faeries sprinkled snowflakes,
sparkling to cover the land, with magic until the Spring again,
when all their days were deep in lilies, silken petals
held dear in tiny hands, and very soon
Summer berries, reddest cherries
were laden sweetly, solely
just for them.

Today - it came suddenly, like rain it came in sheets, stormy without warning
it left nothing to repair, no way to undo the longing, swift we fell, fumbling
as you flew far, forever and gone  
with no one to find you
again at your home

Somehow I felt you smiling or knew you'd be laughing,
dancing in daisies, barefoot and singing Sinatra
on the other side, sweetly
by now

Today the sun was not found
only rain amidst the meadows
Thistle grew, poking through
clouds - til black of nightfall
Dark wingless bird, shadow of stillness
quiet the stars, so long ago forgiveness
and will it come, soon the dawn?
a day to breathe deeply lunged
or fly away my days born of green
ancient as a forest

green forest child
you grow in sponge drenched soils  
drawing me in - an epiphyte longing
sunlight piercing raindrops
of lettuce lichens drinking
mosses soaked, greening
softly underfoot

Certain roads will beckon, haunted in their calling
enticing dreams, caress your head in pillows soft,
surreal, they wield black magic
leaving you stranded on roads unimagined, to unravel
dragging home, long through
dirt and gravel

Three flickers outside my window, smiling - I searched for meaning,
I wished forever joy could stay,
but one, two, three, they flew away
and with them took the fading sun
with clouds and rain soon falling down
now waits tomorrow, with shadows and sun
with joy and sorrow, the birds will come

Soul you speak to me, calling from far off planes
voice of wisdom, your power swirls round me
gentle as petals, you lift me from the fire
all ignorance forgiven
leaving only and indelible burning
of love in the heart

White are the far-off plains, and white
The fading forests grow;
The wind dies out along the height,
And denser still the snow,
A gathering weight on roof and tree,
Falls down scarce audibly.

The road before me smooths and fills
Apace, and all about
The fences dwindle, and the hills
Are blotted slowly out;
The naked trees loom spectrally
Into the dim white sky.

The meadows and far-sheeted streams
Lie still without a sound;
Like some soft minister of dreams
The snow-fall hoods me round;
In wood and water, earth and air,
A silence everywhere.

Save when at lonely intervals
Some farmer's sleigh, urged on,
With rustling runners and sharp bells,
Swings by me and is gone;
Or from the empty waste I hear
A sound remote and clear;

The barking of a dog, or call
To cattle, sharply pealed,
Borne echoing from some wayside stall
Or barnyard far a-field;
Then all is silent, and the snow
Falls, settling soft and slow.

The evening deepens, and the gray
Folds closer earth and sky;
The world seems shrouded far away;
Its noises sleep, and I,
As secret as yon buried stream,
Plod dumbly on, and dream.

Archibald Lampman

My wintery windows, glow in many colored lights,
icy fog, distorts yellows, reds and blues
holly boughs and berries, pines of greenest hues
It is early, much too early
for morning birds still sleeping
snow will fall in swirling winds
from heavy branches weeping
Silver moon, too I see you fade
when foggy clouds go creeping
stars will follow and fade away
when comes the sun over
frosty rooftops peeking

It was winter then, pulling back the covers of dream
to sleep, cold occluded clouds to lift
and wake me, a bird flying by
feathers downy fly,
drift, softly
as the
sky

In dreams
beyond stars, night
can but
only
die

There is no river winding, trickles splash, vanish
silty waters stone cold, gone
glacial icy blues fading fast
recede deep into
our past
soon recalling
nothing
not even our
breath

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

It came hollow as carved bone and cold
strange as moon glow shrouded in mists of fog
it blew breathless, deep as darkest space, unnamed
with towering waves, it came
crashing silent upon the earth and sea
Sun stars melted.
Who will light candles for them?
For whales, seals and the
fallen humans?

Looking to the skies, sifting stars and lies - you dream,
someone waiting at the gate, watching very late the night
Talking to trees, swirling circles breeze, windy autumn
leaves you to fall, sailing golden ships
red and yellow slips, arduous trips will take you
Whispers shake the soul, only you will know
drums of heartbeats
that awake you

So long summer river
bright snowflakes have fallen
leaving you silent where darkness deepens
grey winds rush
and cannot move you along
so dream of Spring's flowering songs
in cold nights of crystalline
when quiet winter snow
falls still upon
the meadow

Someone will be there, suddenly so near - your heart
listen to the wind, music sweet to spin, days together, apart and alone
still you have to go, leaving will be slow
agony awaits, your days will break
days will break - you
alone

No more to swim in your bluest seas, farewell my dear Pacific,
long did you sustain a myriad of lives, true unimaginable bounty,
you gave all for free and still we stole your life away.
Goodbye salty sea air, no more to breathe your sweetness.

Soon a plume shall come, raining poison death upon us,
watch for wicked winds of radiation,
to silent creep, and deadly seep into
soil and irrigation, you mustn't eat
of tainted wheat, now flee thee to
south of the equator.

Bright chartreuse edged, magenta flowers, with lavender
just beyond in the bee fields of summer, thousands of seeds, days spilling over
planted in early autumn rains, to wait again, dotted in red rows of poppies.

Today no clouds will come
only purple mountains glow, before the sun
beyond these fragrant hills, I wander
watching hawks and sparrows
til the golden day slips away
and I am lost between the space
of night and day, and lose all trivial words
and think how glorious
to be a bird

Grey woods, morning mist
hangs upon the trees, leaves decay, sway
falling to the ground

Quiet - this world, but the sound of rain
washing wet the berry vines, droplets
falling to the ground

Sparrows flit among sheltered branches,
nest's to repair, twine and twigs
falling to the ground

Through wooded fog
fades the day, abandoned to the grey,
lost road, lost home - belonging to no one

Pictures found upon a mantle, dust and charcoal,
photos framed in rusty metal,
sepia shadows, a broken mirror

Collections of rocks and bones,
letters and sealing wax,
china cups, stained and cracked

Musty pages of paperbacks,
remnants of a life long ago.
Memories, pressed flowers of fading bells,
little relics, loved
so well

Stone cold, the blackening sky, stole our field of flowers,
soon seeds of dandelions washed away
in watercolor charcoal skies
gone grey.

Tomorrow
all the brightest colors
a mourning
away.

Lies, sins, pretty grins
a face to dance you away
spins your days so grey

And so they came to grow and grow, some flourished wild - under days of golden suns,
some never planted, only blew lonely across the fields of splitting winds
til a drifting life can no longer hold the certain breath of death
swallowed once again by the welcoming earth
a wildfire ignites, burning only for rebirth
life springs anew born of ash and fire.

Sweet desert fragrance
perfume lingers in my mind
long after the rain

In a dream, somewhere in other countries, never mapped
a man was speaking, though I did not understand, there was never any plan
and I listened to the wind and rain upon the trees.
With no church bells to ring, and birds were the chorus
I came upon a silent steeple in the forest, standing on it's own,
became a wild bird's home, wrapped in thorny vines
a crown to stain, with berries, bled upon my hands.
Mary was there too, she was looking through
a broken window pane, calling out my name
and too, all the forest called, bathing me in love.
Then with the birds I flew, heavenly into
a deeper dream, til I  awoke at dawn,
to fragrant flowers on the lawn
remembering such heaven.

There was a road, way back there and a wave so high
it rolled over, washing over me.
Time has a way of moving, looking back to see,
your hands waving back at me.
In the middle of the road, that day
when leaves were falling
over you, over me.

Now sun hits the morning, only to run away
clouds and the trees so windy, all the day
til the moon rises over, like a wave
shining over you,
over me

: )

Pale white or maybe slightly gray, blue
looking through - little holes, grains of sand, blowing through
tossed about this stormy day, ocean spray
you can't hold, lapping waves.

One day whispers will caress
your ears, salt and tears
You may break or drift,  you can never tell
storms of love, pearls
and shells.

Windows never see me, looking through
stairways never lead me to
all the places outside
at the day's end
looking in

Blue day of sun rays will shine
stars beam, yellow moon streams
make drowsy eyes dream

Nightjars
glide through fragrant cedar trees
starlit, past the silence
to a place of dream

In the Autumn woods of dreaming,
leaving night's forest, in search of coming dawn
amidst a meadow clearing, insects glistened
swooping birds flew swift
without a sound
made softest petals, swirl in circles
to the ground
falling
I was falling, deep in love
with Autumn
sparkling radiantly
so crisp the dawn