In the morning red hibiscus flowers
yesterday's petals have fallen to the ground
a hummingbird briefly hovers
in flashes, green iridescent feathered
soon the silver sun comes from behind clouds
reflections, in spectrum colors
of painted sky, brush strokes
in watercolors of dawn
the heart, a lotus flower
center of the soul
that opens.

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

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

: )

Pillow, soft nest of dreams, she slept upon
gorgeous birds embroidered flew
across lakes, blue water fields

swells of seas break, calling swans home
willowy winds sigh, whispers, feathers fly

willow tree shadows alight her slumbering walls
as northern summer fades to Fall

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

Drops - reddish rain on skins
slid dripping, pooled the leaves curled
Steps on stems break, gold the dawn awakes
windy wrecks of nests unhinge
needles, twine thru twigs

Ladders leaned
steps for splintered fingers
Blossomy buds plucked thru rungs
gone the breezy days we sung

Apple worms burrow
dig the beaking birds
Bees have flown homeward

In September's slanted sun
we gather sweetest reds
Crisp the air drifts,
through branches overhead

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

Fragrance, piney, warmth of sap, bark bled
Lithia springs ring clear, a tumbled water song

Owl tree softly spoke
lily fawn so slept, caressed by mourning cloak

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

Strange music playing
I never know from where it comes
always on a whim it wanders and goes
a flute, warm breathed upon my flesh
sometimes cool night jazz
a deep toned oboe, I breathe in wildly slow
drums synced in rhythmic beats
now a bass guitar strummed ever dark
a haunting violin that moans
ripping at the heart.

Bird

It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air -
and there, night came in.

When I returned from so many journeys,
I stayed suspended and green
between sun and geography -
I saw how wings worked,
how perfumes are transmitted
by feathery telegraph,
and from above I saw the path,
the springs and the roof tiles,
the fishermen at their trades,
the trousers of the foam;
I saw it all from my green sky.
I had no more alphabet
than the swallows in their courses,
the tiny, shining water
of the small bird on fire
which dances out of the pollen.

Pablo Neruda

I was reminded of this poem today and felt compelled to post it here, no words do I have, except thank you Pablo!

Tree rings, circling
spiraling to the sky
branches reach, cloudy entwined
summer swirling, silently
blossoms on the ground
tiny seeds planted
soft the rain seeps
without a sound

Leaves sway, decay
lay in the cold
all their days turn to dust
gone the reddest golds

Skies of white
awash in winter's grey
with warming light, snowflake
patterns will run and trickle in
the sun

days born of velvet green
layered buds, jeweled petals, encased within
resplendent colored fragrance
waiting in the wings
and so begins life's
sacred circling
again

Love silent, falls
it touches soft, invisibly floats
unseen by the scope of eyes
comes brushing by, or comes in a down pouring,
wet washing the soul, unwavering, wordless it unfolds
travels most rugged terrain, smooths the way
there is no season for its efflorescence
it sits, a silent bud, any moment to flower
always we know it's fragrance
it is the way, the path
a flitting, ethereal flower
one, that we can never grasp

I stay awake with stars, thinking of your eyes
amber fields, flecked with golden moons
your lips, red cast by secret coral worlds
swim, my hands you catch in woven nets
roped hair of salt and seaweed curls
hold my breath, catch and save myself
nightly, in the deep end, just before I drown.

Walking through the cottonwoods
along a blue-green sea of reeds
the spring pond ripples
with ducks and coots
glint of red on wings
the singing blackbirds
silver minnows flash by
and wriggle in beaks
of fisher birds, so swift
the time to live
and die.

High in the hills wends the road to your home
steeped and flowered by lupine towers
after long slumber, the waking hour - warmth of summer comes
our feet grassed and green, we wish on dandelion dreams
watch tiny parachutes glide into the sea
this place is wild resplendent music
we have become more than ourselves and slowed
have stopped to feel our breath grow
making a path cut from last year
we are slipped and sloped toward shore
silhouetted just before the end of sun
when the world sinks silent
but for the deeply toned
hum of whale song.

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

They came to visit me in a dream
mother and grandmother, sitting on the lawn
The earth spun quickly, they so delighted did not notice
Only spoke of  gardens, tomatoes ripening on the vine,
laughing, rolling in grass, dresses green stained
My tears deep as wells, went empty in life's longings
My arms became flowered stems
for them to gaze upon,
to love silently,
endlessly

I saw dust sparkles fly all around us,
through trees, clouds, rooftops - all things
I saw them fly off too, sparkling
realizing so soon such dust
we all become

rustic rain
brown-yellow hills
crows circle a carrion ****
I've come for resurrection to bleed against the sky
thirst of deserts longing, cool water washings
bones, abandoned skulls - sun bleached white
prayer offerings for an earthy altar
here where death is hallowed

Verily we are suspended
to one another invisibly threaded
gold spun, finely woven
we breathe the air of summer
silken petaled, softly subtle
through these woods treading sun dappled
we come to rest, in a rosy heaven
lose the world of whirling much too fast
to gain the moment, lose the future and the past.

Paper trees
winter still lingering
soon begins water ice trickling
big eyed, dogwood blossoms, rain
pink cherry flowers blooming mad
snow of paper petaled lawns
gardens whisper underground
in colored arrangements
awaiting dawn

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

This is the shadowed imprint, the trace left
ice melt and sea drift of time erased
soft-shod footfalls once apace
this ancient path we travel by
wild with beasts, fledgling trees
of downy wings
we cry, learn to fly
stay awake to see the night
how light penetrates
moon tangled through trees
our souls to illuminate
stars light the way
carry us ever further away
once per chance, never again
until morning

For me it is full and hollow, rings of tree
seas of dream, waves awash my sleepy meadow
skies will sing, nights will go
music, deepest dark of cello
and when will come - the sun?
I wait, the day that it will shine
once again for me

He was covered in oil that day
crawling undercover he did not play
Tossed out, abandoned to the rains
to join the ranks of strays
Green eyed guy found hiding, crying
shivering alone
Now Mr. Black is fat
in his happy
home

The warmth of day lingered on, shadows played a sweeping sun
grassy swallows swooped, grey dusky light
colors of day, drank away the meadow
in skies of yellow, blue

Wind of wild roses, a thicket swirled sweet the night
flower petaled breezes swept the air
in fragrant fields of dream,
beneath the moon

The goldenrod now half exploded, on the edge
flowers cut across the path leading to the bracken woods
from the long grass, three young deer emerge
from the mist, into the forest they disappear
to shelter under fir and cedar boughs
just days old, they rest on mossy loam
I trace their perfect footprints
I want to follow them home.

Sudden rush, so windy
a golden bird is flying
wings unfold, you want to hold
some kind of love undying
soon lands your head
in flowery clouds
and disappears
some sorrow
in skies of sun
layers of love
bled into
gradient
color

Wind shadows blow swift
cool smokey air lifts
clouds of dream, adrift
that come and go

Iridescent wings, sing
crows of summer
a ****** in winter,
a frozen mirror,
melting in
Spring

Emerging greens, soiled leaves
grow skyward
to the sun

Blossomy buds have sprung
with fallen petals on the ground
fading into earth
changing forms
that can't be
found

Thinking back there was that time,
days when the sun shined - just for you
You took the long way
and peddled through the puddles
Green road - a tunnel of maples, undercover
letting go, no hands
Youth's fearless reign
of summer

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 while
seeing and feeling.

Distant it grew nearer
shaggy, wagging ****
muffled barking mutt

These women, they are old
in touch with ancient ways
the dredging of deeper points
they've come to know
and show, without hiding

Their faces are worn weathered maps
lines and holy roads
with soulful eyes
smiling they settle
and sit you down
beside them

In their circle of fire and knowing
these women of the earth
serve milky tea and mirth
their laughter resounds
it pounds the heart
grounds you there
in the fervent pureness
of your tears

A Winter Ship

At this wharf there are no grand landings to speak of.
Red and orange barges list and blister
Shackled to the dock, outmoded, gaudy,
And apparently indestructible.
The sea pulses under a skin of oil.

A gull holds his pose on a shanty ridgepole,
Riding the tide of the wind, steady
As wood and formal, in a jacket of ashes,
The whole flat harbor anchored in
The round of his yellow eye-button.

A blimp swims up like a day-moon or tin
Cigar over his rink of fishes.
The prospect is dull as an old etching.
They are unloading three barrels of little *****.
The pier pilings seem about to collapse

And with them that rickety edifice
Of warehouses, derricks, smokestacks and bridges
In the distance. All around us the water slips
And gossips in its loose vernacular,
Ferrying the smells of cod and tar.

Farther out, the waves will be mouthing icecakes —-
A poor month for park-sleepers and lovers.
Even our shadows are blue with cold.
We wanted to see the sun come up
And are met, instead, by this iceribbed ship,

Bearded and blown, an albatross of frost,
Relic of tough weather, every winch and stay
Encased in a glassy pellicle.
The sun will diminish it soon enough:
Each wave-tip glitters like a knife.

I am delirious, lingering from days
frayed at both ends, especially the head
and knotted in the middle, a rope tightened
round the heart, squeezing beats out
in stops and starts, oh but this is how
we play the game, it's sweaty palmed,
brow furrowed fun, with far too many clocks
cold halls to walk, amongst holy ghosts
tearing through white sheeted rooms, they haunt
or sometimes they bring invisible healing
placing flowers in colorful rings
and garlands circling round the bed
and in the night, only blue white light
to fill a room, basked in love
a tattered heart to mend

Harsh the winds, canyons - deep your drowning
echoes mirrored a lifetime looked upon
sun slept, darkness crept calling
lift the shade, peace parade
roses laid a silken path or
reign the muddied road
all for you to choose
finding your way
toward home

Ocean - lilting azure waves
sway of moon, clouds to hide before the tide
night touching blue - the earth and sky
caressing light - the darkest sea
only a moment
only salt rain

I am counting things
at night numbers, dreams
hum of a hundred bells
soft harps to soothe
sweet with birds colored blue
in the tiger grass, big eyed cats
twitchy whiskers and paws
they sleep beneath tree limbs
branches wild and gnawed.

Do not wake me
while the garden is glowing
a thousand flowers in rows
I am fixed on violets
hydrangeas indigo blue
with fingers I paint thick
brick in red rose variants
on the lawn peacocks in resplendence
with monde blue-green iridescence
and a million gypsophila clouds pass by.

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

When you come home
bring forth a garden, a storm
all the colors of you
a flower petaled rain befalls me
a soaking, sweeping view
from mountains you come
calmly with rain
deep from earth's core
sweet with petrichor
encircling softly warm
attracts me magnetically
stupefies me uncontrollably
though I know the killing hour
will come crushing, empty and forlorn.

My home has no walls to look upon
no roof to stave off wild beasts or tame the restless seas
no window glass, so clear my days to gaze
A soul to dwell in mystery
so soon my days to fly away
yet stand the oaks of long ago
watching children play

Morning wore a robe of clouded sun
rain washed the day away, til broke the sun again
hidden in a thicket brush sang a tiny bird
sweet songs to light the darkness
from this world

Some days I wake
in the cooling clouds and rain
float into the unknown of day
sometimes I am nearly froze
in wintry dreams of streams and ponds
sometimes my feet in forests, treading mossy greens
I walk amid summer trees, that shine in a sun path, glistening
one day with autumn leaves, I'll go falling back to earth, so soon to sleep.

Never call me, on nights fierce with storm
blowing wild with lightening, thunder
no never, and though fretful, I tremble
through raging rains
I go alone

Please don't come over
leaving little notes, so clever
hot and cold, was our weather
farewell my lover
alas it is finally over

We have always had tools
how to repair
stitch the tattered, fray of us
such fools

A family, shattered
all the days our
ruins

Can we will
such storms of darkness
now to light our dawn
love's sacred singing?

We can
lighten our souls
softly winging

rustic rain
brown- yellow hills
crows circle a carrion ****
I've come for resurrection to bleed against the sky,
thirsts like deserts, cool water washing
bones to soak
skulls abandoned, sun bleached white
prayer offerings for an earthly altar
here, where death
is hallowed

In Klawock stands seven totems
and a madman, chanting under ebon skies
he is embedded in the cedar wood, he is connecting worlds
a master carver, of language without words
of the raven clan, he is tracing ancestry in the wood
seeking the old ways of eagle, wolf and bear
born of water, amid the realms of earth and air
his spirit runs with salmon.

When I write these things
my thoughts fly with birds
sometimes grey in storms
sometimes winged in skies
so feathery

When I sing this song
my heart goes in beats, bittersweet
sometimes heavy held, my sorrow spilled
sometimes warmed, red flushed
and fluttery

When I paint this canvas
my brush moves in labyrinthine moods
sometimes shades, darkest blue cerulean
sometimes flowers white, soft as clouds
upon the page, floating heavenly

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.