O sister
when did you become
the perfect treatise
on love and
the sacred painted face?

When did your words
divide the day
from my night?

It was ninety yesterdays ago
when first your verse
startled my eyes
speaking a language
native to this ground
speaking with grace
with love
and with a defined determination
sweetened by the red clays
of your home

The soul of the prairie
holds you in its embrace
the long vista
the tornado
the tempest
all compete for your attention

And here I stand
at the back of the line
humble
one hand in my pocket
one holding an urgent postcard

It simply says

Keep this in
your hand
it is for you.

A thousand years across the sea,
With you is where i want to be;
A thousand voices from outer space,
But only your words matter to me;

A million things i've earned in life,
Only your love i can't repay;
A million wrongs i've done to you,
I wonder why i'm loved this way;

A billion choices that i have made,
None of them's right like choosing you;
A billion friends i still can make,
None of them's worth more than you;

A trillion tears can roll down my face,
From hurting you to my disgrace;
A trillion pieces has my heart been split,
A trillion more you stayed to put it in place;

A zillion things i'll do for you,
Now its time to start anew;
A zillion worth of purest gold,
Nothing ever compares to you.

sodden fabric
twisted tautly
around a flawed
shaft

perforated drum
tumbles mixed
load damp
and tangled

each revolution
coins rain down
empty pockets
wave surrender

Sometimes
we open
ourselves
in faith
in kindness
we unlock doors
in order to
let love
in
sometimes it
penetrates
all those
barriers
built up
over time
like ruins ensconced
inside the earth,
bones and stones
temples unknown
digging deep
we reach a point
where all passes through
into other spheres
then, before we know it
ever deeper
scything off of
       our fingers
into the night
as our hearts
beat ever so twirled
in togetherness
                     tender
Layers
shed rushed
often slow
and always flowing
in the glow
of emotion
and sometimes
it just explodes
all the pieces
tossed into the air
like a grenade
key removed
without warning
in sudden flashes
angel pieces
raining down
in smoldered slashes
fires spontaneously
forming out of what
was just
darkness
and all the
hearts' most
vulnerable places
crush in
velvet smithereens
upon the earth
broken pieces
of glass
sparkling
into the
supple abyss
of
knowing

A friend under the strict moonlight
The sunken lifetime street light
A tape from door steps always taps
The unheard voice of allied laps

A friend above the raised song
Whose eyes can lay in low savannahs
A conversational flow of escape traps
Words unspoken, reserved, immersed

My friend on the haunted cell phone
Whose hammock of reclusion tents
Pegs of condition,bungees of freedom
A sacrificial religious preconditions ail

My friend, a reflection of a world another
Take this winter coat I shunned
One that wakes by the sunset
As it shows me not to be afraid of the world