The morning sang to meadow-ed fields
mountains hummed the clouds far off,
skies went wildly blue
Strolling fragrantly in the cutting rows
lavender florets fell between dreaming toes
Scented mounds infused the path
provence, grosso, royal velvet, I chose
Woody stemmed grey, green, blue
bent breaking fragrance in the heated dew
Cabbage moths danced to singing bees
daydreaming
- I flew in lavandula breeze

Over by the wild fields, crossing wired fences
climbing into view, we saw the sandhill cranes
like airplanes, impossibly winged
they weaved in and out of sight
stalking tall amid the grassy screens
prehistorically made and in the green
of murky shallows to wade
warming in the sun, they come
returning every year
and we can feel the air move
in a giant swoop, a flapping wave
breathing heavy winged
we sighed, at their precarious lift off
the feathery snow of sky
alas, the distant birds 
silver streaking by.

It is summer and soon the Perseid showers
I have gone from my desert home
I wander far from crowded towns
my feet in grassy, bee clover
deep summer, all daisy flowered
green leaves, wild blackberries
await the August sun fire.

Here amid the slowing of mars retrograde
of my love returning home too late
no long goodbye, only the weight
I watch oceans of seaweed sway
at night the phosphorescence
the lonesome of sea stars trailing.

She said it was wisteria, florets draped
framing her windows
vines climbed overreaching the rooftop
swallows flew by, just before night skies
twilight flashed orange, pink in lavender blues
fading into black
a vision soon of sparkling
starry moon
jasmine flowers to float upon
evening's scented pond

Soon came horizontal rain, leaving green music
willowy fingers played the Spring, white explosion
dogwoods on the lawn, to sail salt rivers of ocean
blossomy boats, float puddles
petals returning home

Laughter like tears echoed
streaming down through canyons
her soul to look upon
rivers, mirrors
wings to fly
home

Stepping stones
wet twigs mossy overgrown
footfalls, rain washing the greening path home
grassy droplets, little trickles running
puddles fill the pothole road
clouds break, parting dusk of day
tiny violets sunning

In the evening comes the dim light, the swooping away of day,
the blue, gray clouds, the turbulent air of wild birds
small specs, black and disappearing.
After awhile only quiet,
and then a certain silence settles in
it moves like fog, alongside the moon
it comes cold, blanketing the soul
a depth of space unknown
a well of darkness, undiscovered
the losing of this day, this light
and in the long, lingering hours
dwelling in the dark caved places
touching the soul and flooding the heart
the crashing waves will come
to break one wildly apart.

Fallen leaves, mud and trees
roots, willowy dark and deep
tangled and moving through the water
legs and feet, the moon-green heat
August's fiery stars, the red blood of mars
fretful season of fires and floods.

Long road, cool ocean's sun
Bare feet, warmth, sinks the softness
Drives my soul back home






road trippin (song) - www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYaZdWdhAg8

Brittle the dust flew winding it's way through the hollows
seagulls winging songs for love
Fog horns deep the darkening storm rolls on
splattering waves of day begin
Pebbles running down hill
gathering shells, my cup to fill
hurry home my frozen toes
thawing by the fire
counting shells
and embers

In the night air, of ghostly moon
starry the darkened blues, quiver
some falling from the sky to startle
under murmuring trees, we rest
and never sleep, we seek to know
what night will conjure
strange drunken allure
of the celestial

Planetary fools
entranced by moons
magnetically pulled
ebbed and fallen
just another day, we lay
soon swallowed by
the sun

From this island
water and more tiny islands
heavily treed with Douglas fir
landing ground for ocean otters
while orca whales glide by
spout and spray
the beach, broken shelled
puddled wells of tide pools
filling, spilling over again
brown bauble seaweed mingles
round algae rocks, barnacle shingled
here where the air breathes salt scented
water running wild with salmon.

love me
elemental as
wind, water, fire
wild in billowing fields
drenched watery wet in sweat
of all other things make me forget
igniting dreams of lightening steam
all the ordinary world evaporating

There was a road
it was an old highway they traveled through
time was neither given nor taken
fields abandoned, better left fallow
wheat stalks, left some here and there
became brown dirt deserts
that was before the rain

There was a road
it was newly paved, I traveled through
everyone hurried, how lifetimes flew
Fields heavily poisoned, sprayed to **** bugs
killed many, left some here and there
perfect tomato chemical crops
that was after the corporate gain

December's child
with fire you were forged
your eyes are liquid amber poured
always I dream to kiss
your perfect lips divinely cast
the sweetness of your breath
the warmth that moves across my flesh
your hands and arms are sculpted bronze museum art
indelibly in mind when you are far
the hot of your delicious mouth
traveling gently, slowly south.

In death, perhaps we are like water
making our way ever deeper from sand and sky.
Maybe we fly, linger and hover awhile
and the dream of becoming a bird is real.
Maybe we are stars, floating oceans of night skies
moving toward divine light in swooping waves
pushing upwards through embryonic waters
spilling over the soul
again and again.

Outside my door a cawing crow
of blackened wings and indigo
delivered by night's shivering storm.
The wind and winter's howling call,
scattered nests and down the feather falls.
Crack of limbs, cold and bare branched
mesquite leaves and needles spiral to the ground.
In a swooping field he flies into the tallest pines
deep and slow, the trees creak
wild in cello tones.

Breath like wind
always coming, going
disappearing words written on a mirror
as you breathe, so shall love leave
words will reappear amidst foggy steam
only traces, of a heart remain
this longing, this rebirth and dying
brief our days, love we cannot grasp
nothing won or lost - all is impermanence

On days like this
cool, with little winds
desert birds forage for sticks
they build nests perched in cactus
some build green in palo verde trees
always I think of baby birds in spring
hatchlings, the fledglings that fly
I travel far beyond the noise of towns
watch the movement of cooling clouds
the roundness of rain upon the ground
the grey banked scurrilous skies
of hurried birds, their silhouettes before a storm
daisies that close, cold amid the stones
beneath where snakes and lizards go
slither and crawl in this landscape of saguaros
and I, ever tethered can only dream to fly.

The wind moved in magenta waves
across long summer grass  
We drove to the usual lookout place
first the creaking, then the shrill
An ancient glacier crashing, calving,
splashing ominous waves that met us at the road
Wet washing horizontal rain
a moment of rebirth
dripping, dumbfounded
soaked immaculate

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.

Here we sleep under star flowers
a flash of meteor showers
our room a fire light - full bloom
sigh and breath of moon
we travel nights like this
in a sky of sparkling jewels
swim and dream, float
in shimmering pools.

The rain it pooled deep within the leaf, the hollow
and drank there - insect, vole and swallow
along a mud and marshy path, my feet for to follow
and tread upon the lichen moss, I sank softly greening
watching all the day, the trickling of the woodland trees
the light that breathed there glistening.

Blackbird your wings like ashen skies
iridescent as blue morpho butterflies
the impaling of your sharpened eyes
all knowing, you cackle
shapeshifter Yaqui man
desert bird, a grackle

Stirring, you stare me down
shaking mesquite leaves to the ground
the air is thick grey sage
smudged with prayers of peace
a wish to cease
the wars we wage

a vision pure of heart
this message of love unfurls
breathe peace - peace
in this world.

How the rains came
wild blue in waterfall tears
magenta orchid clouds to wear
Oh, the tropical winds
leeward, an ocean blowing in
plumeria flower waves
a blissful turquoise bay 
lay of fragrant floral sands
warm breeze to carry
this wild ocean breadth
far and off to foreign lands

Your heart - all knowing, that finds me
blooming, a lotus flower unfurling
sepals and petals, morning yellow
of golden birds, gilded meadows
of grasses green, your wisdom eyes
of flashing fields that shine
we are infinitely interwoven by
the sacred that is unspoken
by all that is divine.

Watercolor crimson skies
bleed indigo blue pastel lines
waterfall rains spill over
Yellowy blues sink viridian green  
paper clouds bloom fire
a sunrise to devour

She is a sable brush
born of resurrected ashes
sifting her soul in colors
Hillsides greening, looking out
a painter of days and ruins

Of all the colors
or incense of fragrance imbued
of lavender in fields, violet blue
or softer still the lilac florets all abloom
pale silk, sweet the honeysuckle dew
drips and drinks the yellow painted tanager
and flits afield the newly winged swallowtail
the thrum and dance of bees bright in floral symphonies
gathering, heavy laden in the bending breeze
of all the colors, this bird iridescently shimmering
blue into the disappearing trees
too soon another day to lose
of all the colors, a favorite
I can never choose.

He bought and sold things, much like the man
who sold balloons in the park, fashioning them into strange animals
mostly fastened to wooden sticks, except for the helium headed ones
they remind me of you, floating high and lofty
out of reach, wanting escape from ties and pulling strings
drifting from the city moving countrywards
many are mesmerized by the migration
the fantastical triumph of levitation
they wait for days, years under trees
but not I, I am no longer drunk by
hot air and helium dreams

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

In this desert
I touch the ocean within,
here where I abandon all plans,
I spend hours watching cloud formations
of flowers blooming violet, red.
I travel to the sanctuary of the soul
each morning, sit silent
at the altar of dawn.

Dusky blue the twilight hushed, dimming daylight's edge
cherry tree, green leaves grow - gathering black of night
so quiet, my sleepy garden bows
still warm the sun drunk petaled heads
August moon lingers
only a crescent slicing low
silver birds silhouetted
in shadows flying home
evening deepens, dark the day
silence, the world so far away

Yesterday
music encircled your soul,
laughter rang, so beautiful
Brilliant bells, colors, mountain meadows
An open book, you fell
in love with everything
Green hills, trees you climbed
above the seas

Stark
vast beauty of you, with worlds long hidden inside
fenced in places, cracks to be filled
your shinning brilliance killed
becoming so invisible

Illuminated
a flower, translucent you bloom
centered, calm within the petal storm
rainwater washing
clean the core
a place, no locks  
your heart
an open door

This valley, belly and backboned
a blanket of snow - stitched and gone
textured trees, willows wind blown
here where an early moon heaven still hovers
here amid the last smoking sky of cold
a chirping of morning birds unfolds
singing a gleeful goodbye to the moon night
winging before the sunrise
the blooming of daffodil springtime
and too, wisteria tangled vines will climb
reach for the calm of violet skies.

her face, moonlight, diffused
pure art, creamy, curved
hands of finest sculpture
alabaster smoothed
delicate strands, her hair
of softest gold
floats, she dwells in stars
Venus, high priestess
magnetic force above
ever invincible
ruler of love

The path of the sun, with its arrows shooting us home
the light, the lulling moon miles, the night roads we travel
in vast fields of star flowers we are born, reflections in the river
floating we ride, wildly glide, some days on the smooth tides
with these eyes, sometimes half blind
we live and dance, we hide, we fade and die
all too soon only a ghostly glow,
a glimmer in the blue water.

This tea, I steep
red apple, your kiss
alizarin crimson, wet
impossibly sweet
you soothe, I drink
your lingering lips
poured with honey milk
by the fire, consumed
of love infused
with herbs and leaves
this tea, I drink.

When the earth in Spring
and all the yellows are nearly green
exploding ripe the catkin maple seeds
hung for flitting sparrows

When swift the clouds
dark, with pelting rain
of droplets wet pooling
in the hollows

As the clouds give way to sun
move hurriedly to fill the day with light
there where tiny budding leaves
are greening in the shadows

I will tell you these things about the sky
and of summer going into fall, of berries nearly gone
the mountain ash trees green, gold and changing.
The yellow waxwings that perch beneath
the heavy laden leaves, cool
amid an autumn storm.
Half the sky is impossibly grey
then further away, turning black charcoal
a place where thunder is born, booming.
The other half changes from pink, purple, blue
crashing its way into these luminous hills
meandering in sync with birds over the river
until the sun comes, igniting the clouds
on fire with red again.

Your eyes cataracts - fogged over, with a hint of blue
Still you saw more than most anyone I've known
I thought you a sorcerer, a mystic man
with lightening speeds you spun tales in thunder clapping rooms
A modern day chief, good will ambassador of Hope
you were the glue of an entire village,
sticking your heart on everyone like that
The Discovery Cafe, your story telling room, disguised as a restaurant,
a place you opened years ago
Many came hungry only for your stories
One could not easily eat and run or have a cup of joe and go, just not possible
when Tito had the floor
Tales of fishing, gold panning, black and brown bears, one with his head stuck in a lard bucket,
or the one that chased some lady up a tree.
The way your hands moved, while you went into a trance was a sight to behold
Though you never confessed it, I'm pretty sure you were a hypnotist
How many times I went for coffee at 9AM never leaving til' noon,
completely bowled over, ****** in by the fantastic rip tide of you!
I saw you just months before you passed
Though you had gone deaf and blind, your love was ever present, it's been felt everyday since,
in a world that has changed a darker shade of blue,
Tito how can I ever thank you?

Pillow, soft nest of dreams, she sleeps
wings - birds embroidered flew
across lakes - blue water drops,
swell of seas break - calling
swans home, willowy winds sigh
whispers, feathers fly
windows of light, branches delight her walls
dancing before
the fiery fall

Who shall remain to speak of Eden sleeping?
When gone the earth, our splendid garden
left of backward dreaming
and all the glorious twisty tendril reaches
vines to cling to life, anew the greening seasons

Alone the fields in September shades, grains
of wheat and rye will not play, of fall's refraining
or sing the cat birds strange meowing

Once rows and rows, the fields flowed,
fed heavenly our daily bread
before the GMOs

Unearthly - sick the flocks afield
no bees about, the headless flowering yields
all the gifts, the seeds of life cannot be found again
we've decimated Eden




http://www.greenmedinfo.com/blog/dows-deadly-harvest-return-agent-orange

There's hope:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6P03nNeYiJo&feature;=related

Hawk hunting in the grey, last light
sliced the evening air
talons locking swift
two birds falling
black of night,
breathes death
to rise - calling
ever endless as
breath

Ashen grey, weathered wood
splintered, white bone
hollowed by the desert sun
skull and backbones
laid to rest, wind blown
sunk in sifting sands, exposed
by wet washing squalls
drinking water into steam
interwoven, dead with weeds
iridescent beetles and scorpions
glints of pyrite, diamond stones
the haunting wind, that moans
wild through hollows and holes.