"I have a religion
I just don't ******* know"
so spoke
the blonde boy
across the aisle
in the beanie and the falcons shirt.
(he's a high school freshman
and already so
disillusioned?
would that I had been so wise!)
and that's my problem
I just don't ******* know
(no one ******* knows)
where is
your spiritual magnetic north?
where did you find your deities?
in the bracing wind
shearing slantways along your soul?
in the crackle of sparklers
arcing towards the ground from burnt fingertips?
in the murmur of dawn
crossing the horizon-threshold with trepidation?

Freeing my life force
unblocking meridians
energy balanced

When white wings, feathery scatter
silent as snowflakes gather
resting on rooftops.
In death, does a soul linger,
does it fly in the vastness
of forever?

Like some birds in clouds
we've never seen, though
felt in the rain, and wilds.
Swift a rush that chills
and floods the heart unknown,
a gift of truth reveals
that which eyes cannot look upon,
and only hearts
can feel.

Sword ferns warming
some unfurling toward the sun
deeper green the moss, grows softly underfoot
forest fog the breadth of morning, breathing
grey of pale lichen clinging

a snow melt creek splashes running
clouds break away, to light the day
the shine of mossy flowers sunning

this church, it has no walls
no doors to lock nor ticking clocks to read
only of the sacred does this wooded temple sing
and I so humbled bow beneath
resplendent evergreens

Buoyant snowflakes sideways crashed
dripping down grey window glass,
stinging winds blew harsh - the lash
of winter.

High in pines, do they shiver,
nesting birds deeply hidden?
or
do they warmly slumber,
with downy feathers, nestled under,
night's darkest cold, before
the light of dawn?

She loved the pale moon
he traveled beneath night's sky
woven by starlight

Red table mesas
Whitest clouds dot to dot sky
Healing waters run