the language of light fills the sky once more
comes down to share our table
- life pulsating from out the Earth
clear clean water.
We eat our bread and drink our wine
while the Sun shines on all we do.
the language of light throughout the Universe
- crackling stars
our hearts pulsars
love a river, an ocean wide
dive on in, in reckless abandon.

Eroding brick wall
all that remains
refracted, fading
fishermen shadow
red dawn’s early light

brackish still water
shocked violent green
seeps from the desert
to be subsumed
by an unrelenting sea

restless dreamers rise
muscle sturdy pangas
into the churning tide
seeking quicksilver
at the continental edges

returning boats ride low
the shrinking horizon
race to safe harbor
cold beer on ice
under palm palapas

in the restaurant
a young man
shows off tuna
half as tall as he is
to admiring tourists

like me, seeking
the deep, slow burn
salt, jalapeno, lime
a fitting end to this
unraveling dream

Pueblo Mágico
of “no bad days”
walls of contention
in a fractured land
will never separate us

one margarita, two
another raised in defiance
of those who would try
to confine and define
free-range spirits

the Pacific touches
this contiguous shore
from equator to pole
we could catch
a clockwise current

follow Polaris up North
arrive transformed
magnetically charged
disparate souls fused
together bound

Soon the parade of cruise ships will drop anchor
more than 50 over the summer from around the World
the winding streets will be full of expectant tourists
all hunting their very own small memory to buy
gifts for family and friends back home.
Post cards will be sent by the thousands and the
tills will ring with dollars and pounds and euros.
The throng will last for a season, foreign voices
will fill the air with strange languages and twangs.
Then all will settle down as if they had never been, at all.

I rolled up my voice into a ball
-the universal disc;
a fire ball imitating the stars
into an ocean of silence.

we share the same beach
and if you shift
I shift too
we are the one beach
riding the same tides

its the pull of the womb
the salt laden air
a wish for weightlessness

River as persistent
as the enduring ******
for self-preservation -

Carving by currents
and flowing within
a necessary course

Determined
by ancient
inherent law.

Oblivious to danger
and ignorant of doubt
it is perpetually unconcerned -

The river carelessly
generous
without discrimination -

Ever sustaining
trees, grasses and
underbrush shelters

Home to life in its waters
and nourishment for those
that come to the banks

Never quarreling with any
human imposition
be it sport or utility

And always providing
the perfect primordial
music for meditation

Always offering
an immaculate lullaby
for the tranquil restorative
of sleep.


- fr

Raindrops die on the windowpanes today;
each one now on its way to becoming an ocean.