golden locks caress her shoulders
as light upon horizons’ play
softly falls the moonlit night
as stars slip through the veil of day

she speaks in tones of tenderness
as her ashen light fades to grey
filling up his empty cup
with the words he couldn’t say

leaves petrified with frost
withered on aspen branches
hanging like skeletal cocoons
ice-crusted once-yellow dead-greys
and yet
a mountain-strong autumn-bright sun
resurrects fall for a few more days

like eternal lovers
beneath liquid grey skies
rising and falling
water carved and weathered,
the waves of dry earth
giving birth to a mountain
that feels like forever
to a sojourning heart
that reverently prays:

my father, my mother,
my brothers and sisters,
are nothing but earth and sky

as i wander through
a grove of ancient pine
the ghost of a ghost
turns her blue head and nods
whispering a haunting melody
that dances on the west wind

and my progress halts
for her song chills my spine
even as it warms my wounded heart
and despite her deadly smile
i know something beautiful
once happened in this place

so it has been, so let it be

euthanized epiphanies
fluttering vacant thoughts
hope's expectation
breaks on waterfall rocks
creation of oblivion
averted sideways glance
stares of isolation
all is happenstance

under the ruddy and smoke-laden sky
i stare into the sun's almighty eye
and howl into each blood-moon night
fulfilling the depths of my feral birthright
as my heart and my mind declare war
for my beloved dies upon distant shore
but in this, the face of the final grave
i choose to refuse to be a slave
for there is no escape from this vast sea
and i know she will certainly swallow me
as she swallows each sun and every moon
as she swallows each river’s roaring tune
just as she will swallow this raging fire
just as she swallows the billowing spire
for by immersion she baptizes all
and into her womb all will withdraw
for as we are born we all will burn
and as we all burn we all return
set free by the fire of divinity’s motion
consumed by the depth of the eternal ocean

and yet, here i stand


waiting for her
to take my hand

the notes her hand wrote kindled his fire
and he devoured each secret word
with her scripted craft she unlocked an abyss
too deep for his screams to be heard

and his hunger swallowed him whole

a silver thread ties me to you
stitching us both to the same moon
and bound together by love sublime
we are woven into the fabric of time

sometimes people are toxic
but since they don't have fangs
their poison must be ingested
and thus their power does wane
for we have the freedom of choice
when blighted words waft our way
to listen and swallow their venom
or simply to walk away

the bones of a poem
ride on the storm
that bellows through
wood-fired red skies
and they rattle all night
but with dawn's light
i release them
as butterflies

sometimes
i want to implode
and swallow the things i said
turn back time
crawl into the womb
and never come out again

at the edge of night
vultures circle
the bones of another day
leaving me
one sunset
closer to my grave

the cheer of lemon petals
radiates from cerise centers
and floats on summer breezes
that carry meadowlark melodies;
music written by the soul of nature
for the open hearts that hear her love

quarter moon asymmetry
casts shadowed light
twilight’s first breath
gasps with coming night

hollow empty distance
star-glitter kiss
night’s violet depth
mysterious abyss

the hypnotic intensity of light’s subtlety
holds his disquiet in a trance
as twilight writhes between colorful worlds
in an impossible glowing dance

***** clouds smudge
across heavy skies
laden with tawny soot

sagebrush steppe glows
under jaundiced light
blazing wildfire summer

a frozen flow, like an unfamiliar face
dripping from void to void
sculpts viscous memories from deceitful clay
into echoing tales of a never-was
that bears the fruit of the never-will-be

but perfect waves, like open-endings
are immersed in the possibilities
of living in nothing and no thing
transmuting the phrase "will not be"
into anti-vocabulary

a lily summer blooms on horizons
glistening with mercury and wonder
as waterfowl slow dance in the pale light
of a dying and star-crossed moon
to the hollow echoes of ill-fated waterfalls
that refuse to surrender to tidal gravity
and in the end, it all means nothing

but the sun still rises
and his childhood eyes open
brimming with curious wonder

the fires of yesterday
reach through the gulf of night
with acrid fingers of smoke
and ember-glowing eyes

whispering like a reality that never was
or a game that never ends
played by a life that is never lost

and in the tongue of forgotten souls
they speak in uncertain terms
of charcoal hearts and burned-out love

for they no longer see the living now
or believe in the promise of tomorrow
failing to see the glowing light
that dwells in their own ember eyes

though veiled by the clouds of silence
her full moon heart rises in his mind
and by faith alone, he offers all he is
to the invisible brilliance of her love
as she beckons from the darkness
with tendrils of stillness and peace

at times my mind and heart
forget they like each other
and they forget about my soul
sometimes all together
so i climb the nearest hill
stretch my arms into the sky
and listen as the wind
calls them to my side

my mind responds first
reaching to my chest
and timidly says "sorry"
"i'm sorry i've been stressed"
my heart forgives quickly
and lovingly looks upward
and says "it's no problem"
"i am sorry that you suffered"

hand in hand they turn
and looking deep within
they find my soul hiding
frightened by the din
they point him toward the view
and in the silence he stands tall
and remembers who he is
and how exactly he did fall

and he reaches out his hands
firmly grasping heart and mind
and together they stand strong
on this mountain top we climbed
and now whistling, we walk
from the foothills to the town
for we are ready for the world
i will not let it bring me down

a river of dried blood, flash flood
awakened by the charade
of a pretended perfection, broken
hopes for the future gasp for breath

he claws for a branch, suspended
brittle over the black torrent
as if it could hold the weight
of a thousand years

and, like every final breath,
his last breath
is a breath
out

under sapphire-clouded skies
a subtle stillness settles
quieting an anxious heart
and relieving worldly pressures

breathing in sweet mountain air
our mother's strength fills my lungs
as up the steepest trail i climb
every obstacle is overcome

sunlight's touch warms my face
like father's power, omnipotent
and as my soul sings in praise
vanished is my discontent

if i were to write a love poem
you would be sunset's grace
adorned in vibrant and living fire
and i would write how with you
i feel completely at home
as if you were a canyon's embrace

if i were to write a love poem
you'd be an iridescent songbird
that nests effortlessly in my heart
and i would write of dancing
and fluttering butterfly wings
and rivers that run through my veins
all while singing your name

if i were to write a love poem
you would be the delicate prism
of every wildflower bloom
and i would write of myself
and how i need no one else
but it all would be written for you

he bleeds music
liquid melodies and clotted rhythms
that spurt in pulsating streams
from the open wound
of his beating heart

he lives in the key of b
with a love
that cannot
be freed

a land textured with years
and sage-scented experience
crackles under boot-clad foot

and within flowing crystalline skies
a cloud's dream of permanence
withers like the desert sand below

upon water's silvered surface
the wind dances in waves
to the echo of the clouds
as a symphonic sunset plays

transmuting motion into color
and wedding sound to light
gracing hearts with courage
as they greet the coming night

wyoming spring
is like a campfire

the sun's beautiful light
burns your face

while the constant wind
freezes the shadows

happy mediums
are for other lands

the mountain speaks
of being anchored
by roots so deep they burn

and this ancient wisdom
is reiterated by tree limbs
groaning against the wind

but light-hearted crows
taunt the stagnant below
as they surf the invisible tide

and having ascended
the golden eagle sees all
in the light of the setting sun

and I find myself torn
between being rock steady
and living while i'm alive

this daily death
and nightly rebirth
these swelling buds
and falling leaves
this piling snow
and torrential flow

this in- and ex- halation

this building warmth
and inertia of cold
this body grows
and then it grows old
this rhythm of life
and imminent death

pervades everything i see
so, could it be
that, perhaps, this rhythm is me

as i scale this mountain
i feel like i belong
and though i feel invited
drawn by the wind’s song
the pungent scent of sage
on the springtime breeze
tells me to tread lightly
for i am only visiting

mystified by the moon
i wander westward
toward the crags and pines
of a rocky mountain horizon

i see her fullness flowing
her skin slowly shedding
as she freely lets go
of all that which she was given

without fear she moves
slowly descending
into her mountain grave
disappearing from my view

i witness her gentle death
fully aware of the illusion
and i rejoice in her birth
on the far side of the globe

as this goddess lights my path
my heart turns to my god
who each and every day
lends me my life’s breath

knowing that someday
i too, must let it go

known from history to history
and named in every age
the muse our of imagination
circles above the darkened stage

firmly held by winter's grasp
but heralding the birth of spring
starlit hope shines from afar
breathing life into eternal dreams

that bridge was built
with my bare hands
only to crumble
under the weight
of your constant need
the rubble crashing
into the sea below

and as i weep
for the demolished reef
you yell at me
demanding to know
when I'll build again
while lounging in the sun
on your distant beach

but you know what?
that distance
that span
has become
too far for me
it's just too far
for me to care

a book with no cover
lies in our bones
depths of experience
no one else knows
guiding our words
by memories enclosed
written with hearts
by minds void of prose

blanketed in a polar cold
woven by the hollow sun
the hibernating hills
dream of sultry days
and the return
of forsaken love

the golden age will start
when children of the father
and children of the mother
join hands in the realization
that they are sister and brother
all living lives of loving each other

and in seeing the beauty in all
ignorance and judgment will fall

and so let it begin
and let it begin with me

and the years fall away
like pages torn noiselessly
from the skin-bound book of my life

and dropped from a magnificent height
they flutter samara-style slow
lighting upon the dusty hardwood floor
like feathers piling up softly, silently
as they clutter the the library of me

and i sift through the pages
scavenging for gilded gold
but instead i find only me
and for once, that is enough

and for once, i am enough







.