You left your cup on the kitchen sink.
It was still filled with your sustenance.
There it stood, staring at me so plainly
that I finally lifted it to my mouth
and rested my kiss on the rim.
I tasted you again.
Nothing wakes me up in the morning
quite like a glass of you.
It was like a burst of molten sun--
an explosion of tartness
spreading itself sweetly across my palette.
I swear, the rim of your cup is sacred.
So after I sipped from your morning brew,
I left it alone in the basin.
It's waiting for you to lift your flavor
from its Holy surface.
I'll sip again of your sweet mouth tomorrow.

I'm stuck between two places at once.
The mist curls so indiscernably
into the air I breathe.
Which one is real?
I've been here before--
this in-between place...
I am a frequent visitor.
I have come every morning since birth,
and every night as well.
It's too big to be a doorway,
too small to be a field...
This in-between space--
this in-between grove... yes! Grove!
It welcomes me into waking,
and guides me into dream.
Sliding here and there,
she seems longer than a second
but shorter than a moment;
She's ageless-- this mother of consciousness...
this lover of dreams.
She's the heartbeat between the opposites...
the breath before the change--
wisps of in-between.

Walk with me, my friend,
as sun sets beyond the hill,
Along the forest paths we tread
and wander still.
Remember when we were young?
To dreams we clung so fast.
Now along a line our worries hung--
Too quickly time has passed...
So far apart we've grown,
But I remember now--
The way our souls were sewn
In candlelight by vow.
Walk with me once more
to yonder 'stead and then
beyond the curtain of the Earth
to God's eternal glen.

River run swiftly
   against the crooked sky
race the gulls
   with all thy might.

Bring me there--
   I pray thee -- run!
Bring me quickly to her door
   before sun rises overhead.

With chocolates wrap'd in gold
   bracelets of amethyst--
songs from memory--
   let her remember.

Before the world stops spinning
   let me see--
the smile of noon day
   and the chime of laughter.

That steady gaze--
   so constant, so sure...
her fingers brush the canvas--
   Apple Red for Lotus Girl...

Mistress to the canvas--
   stain out your heart.
I'll study the shameless paint
   as your choc'lates sit on the table.

Today is a common one--
a simple beauty.
'Tis nothing extraordinary--
not even witty.
But the little makes the big--
like droplets a bottomless sea.
A day for God may very well
for us millennium be.

In the forests of night,
When sister stars can fall,
When wolf packs sing their flight,
And great, wise owls call,
When silent treetops sway,
And creatures of daylight sleep,
When children kneel to pray,
And Willows still do weep,
When moonlight rains its beams
Upon the sleeping Earth,
When nothing is as seems
And home is filled with mirth,
What once was lost
Is found again…
From a time none dos’t
Remember when…
From fires of peat,
Ancient, will then…
Light the darkness beat,
And age-old magic shall rise again.

Waves crash at her feet
as the fog gathers round,
    whispy at first
but waxing thick.
    A chill creeps down her spine
as she looks out o'er
    restless sea and blanketed night.
Though storm she knows
    draws near,
she finds herself unmoving,
    only slightly afraid
of the immeasurable approaching force.
    But upon the rock she stands...
tall and firm...
    A warrior of satin heart
a silver tree in a gulf of black--
    a sparkling soul
captained only by her Christ.
    She stands alone,
unmoved, ready for the dark...
    ready to weather
the war of Saturday.