the heart-fire grown cold
in the face of his demons
but from the ashes within
a phoenix awakens

and by spreading his wings
he swirls a hot wind
and ignites lifeless love
through being a friend

and now the sky is falling
a wounded heart is calling
heaven's filled with graying stars

life is full of leaving
but love is full of healing
they never stand that far apart

so i will stand as witness
and see the snake's rattle and hiss
as nothing more than what they are

and i will be just one
and bask under the sun
and heal this broken wounded-heart

look into the mirror
what is it that you see

beard's a little sparse
but hair is just right

right eyebrow needs a trim
but not a blemish in sight

ears are far from perfect
but body's ready to fight

or

gaze at the butterfly iris
and watch it never be still

look into the pupil
and feel a little chill

as i see the me that sees
the one that has free will

look into the mirror
what is it that you see

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

roll aside
the heavy stone
that locks you in
the sepulchre
of your darkened soul

let the light
within you shine
easter morning sun
burn up the mists
of your ignorance

look in the mirror
see yourself
son of man
you are a son
of god almighty

let those around you
feel god's love
an authentic life
will clear the path
of every obstacle

know your truth
live with love
heal your sickness
shake off the death
of living without light

the eye of the moth
irresistibly attracted
to the gravity of the
lantern's soft flame
like the soul is drawn
to the godly source

and like the separation
between spirit and god
the thinnest pane of glass
prevents the moth's rapture
frustrates nightly pilgrimage
transparent veiled prison

one night the glass cracks
falls broken to the earth
reveals flame's fiery aspect
and the heat at it's core
the moth's approach is
unimpeded by the glass

and as its wings are singed
an ecstatic cry is heard
the good fight has been fought
the race has been completed
the body is discarded
as soul and source unite

it always starts this way
the broken butterfly wing
and fly though that it may
it's circling to the left

my stomach not in knots
if anything i feel sane
but underneath my thoughts
i'm circling to the left

the wolf will never go
its clothing never shed
the sheep will never know
while circling to the left

the fragile i have snapped
alone they break so easy
with long tongue they are lapped
but circling to the left

and to the left they move
following their tales
rough but sound so smooth
if circling to the left

the end they'll never know
they won't make it that far
they reap what i did sow
when circling to the left

the circle's magic feat
the end is overtaken
the whole is made complete
by circling to the left

solomon-shaming lilies
glow in morning's glory and
border the path as it emerges
from the shaded olive grove

stopping me with grace as
sunrise rays warm my face
and dispell the cold night as
the slumbering world awakens

swallow tail butterflies flit
under sacred dogwood clouds
that mimic rapture's sign as they
diffuse golden hour radiance

honeysuckle perfume inspires
birdsong's layered dawn chorus
and i know the tomb is empty
as nature's love envelopes me

unfettered depths this ocean mind
****** by clouds and vaulted skies
the broken promise lies beneath
a thickened heap of ugly truth

the cold and unforgiving chide
the beautifully over blessed
they look to god as if to claim
their place among the best

the king of kings the emperor
has left the throne vacant
the driver's seat is purple stitched
and available for rent

but to occupy that lofty place
comes with the heavy price
of self deception corruption
and adoption of the vice

unwillingly it brought me here
then turned around and ran
and left me here beside myself
without a map or travel plan

again, he hears her first
a bright ripple on the breeze
pulses of lonely trilling

glancing skyward he catches
an hallucinatory glimpse
of her sand-stained wings

as if to avoid his gaze
she glides effortlessly into the
blinding back-light of the sun

she emerges head first
her red eye-mask glowing
in the midday illumination

overhead, she trills again
she circles and watches him
she is as curious as he

while we wait for the world to end
she has helped another begin
as we look to the sky for signs
she sees only the stars in our eyes

nazareth walks in every heart
pilate is poised in every mind

we forgot who we are long ago
leaving all else out in the cold
how deep the roots have ingrown
but we know we must own that we're known

this mountain made of limestone
limestone that long ago comprised
it comprised an ancient seabed
the seabed became desert
and the desert became mountain
the mountain reaches for the sky
but the sky withholds her rain
and rain’s metamorphic power
is power that the desert craves
craves like a lover lost
lost in the cruel cycle of time
but time brings evolution
and evolution the mountain knows
she knows that it’s her lover
and her lover never left her
never left her all alone
alone in the cycle of time
so in time she has faith
faith that she will once again
once again become an ocean
an ocean full of rain

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

the ninth shade
embraces mountain peaks
in the pure clarity of morning

frost clings to sagebrush
in the ascending sunlight
of the third-quarter moon

and as life pauses
to apprehend the spectacle
of a wintry summer morning

my bones feel
the transition of season
as autumn draws near

sunset blood drains
from transient clouds
as the bone-white moon
hangs in haughty defiance
over a jaundiced prairie

and as the life-giving sun
descends into its earthly grave
centuries of ghosts
whisper their hollow secrets
on the northern wind

they speak only of yesterday
amid the coagulating darkness
having long forgotten
the radiant life of today
and the promise of tomorrow

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

The road begins at my door.
A quick right, then left, just one
and on for seven miles. Seven.
It's seven miles till I get there and the sun,
the sun's still shining bright. So bright.
The kind of bright that hurts. It hurts
my head. Makes it ache. And as I reach
your place, that dull ache reminds me.
Reminds me
you aren't home.

I sit behind the wheel and watch.
I watch the sun drop. It drops.
It drops like you did, expected, but
too soon, too quick. So quick,
my aching head spins.
My aching, spinning head.
For a minute, a quick minute,
I forget. I forget that
you aren't home.

It's like it was back then, at least for
just a minute. My spinning gets me
spinning, thinking I might see, I
might see your smile,
that smile that tells me, it
tells me that I'm not alone.
But I am alone. Alone. Alone
because you're gone. But I forget,
I forget that you are gone,
for a minute I forget that
you aren't home.

I remember. My head drops to
the wheel when I remember.
I remember with an ache. The ache.
The hollow in my chest. The tears
try to escape, but I don't let them.
I look at your door. Your door is swimming.
Your door is swimming in my tears.
The tears that I won't let fall
from my eyes. My eyes.
My eyes ache for you. For your smile.
Your beautiful smile. But you,
you aren't home.

I turn myself around. I turn around
real quick. So quick. So quick that I
forget. I almost forget my way.
I nearly forget my way
back home. I forget the seven
miles. Seven. Those seven miles
have become, they've become eternity. Eternity. Eternity
because you, my love,
you aren't coming home.

unrequited light flows from lonely stars
as they reach into the dark unknown
not seeing their own beautiful auras
not knowing the lives touched
by the warmth of their one-sided glow

sleeping dogs don't lie
they only speak the truth
the truth of everything

the truth of every being
is that we all just want to eat
and nap under the sun

unless it's summertime
then we would prefer
to sleep in the shade

smooth grey stones
bounce across the stream
as if begging for one last glimpse
of the rainbow-toned sunset

as they skip across
the fast current surface
before sinking into a watery grave
as i throw them to their death

this couch won't let go of me
every time i get up to leave
i remember there's no where to go
and i get ****** right back in again
like i'm a moon falling
into my cozy earth

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

sometimes a melody
sometimes silence
sometimes a mountain
sometimes a valley
sometimes the highlights
sometimes the shadow
sometimes the living
sometimes the dead
sometimes the desert
sometimes the sea
sometimes i'm you
sometimes i'm me

textured like
velvety memory
tickling my skull
iridescent feathered mind
wafting ideas
delicious odorous ideas
ripe with potential
inviting starved nostrils
alluding hope
delivering naught

the rhythm, melody and lyrics
of my ancestral birthright
echo through the emptiness

the old songs resonate as
a choir of blood sings
vibrating the threads
that are woven into the tapestry
of all that i am by the lives of
my mothers and fathers
connecting me to them
with an untearable fabric

and as my thread
weaves in and out
i appear, disappear and reappear
travelling through family cloth
on the songs of those
that have gone before

and i fear none
as we all sing our song
to the tempo of the sands of time
as they fall into the future

within a starlit valley
a thousand miles away
the omnipotence of distance
broods a lonesome song
an echo of his vacant heartbeat
reverberates without embrace
humbling his lofty thoughts
as he dreams of his wishful place
within a starlit valley
a million miles away

in the quiet of predawn
a butterfly awakes
and while resting on a twig
she warms her glowing wings
in the gathering light of day

she flits from bloom to blossom
as the sun climbs and falls
she sips from ambrosial pools
of mother nature’s bounty
while the western wind begins

and in the fading afternoon
as i sit in my spot
she finds the zinnia i grow
in the planter by my bench
and we share a moment

i see her and she sees me
and as she gracefully rides the breeze
my thoughts are silenced by her beauty
and as we watch each other
the universe stands still

font springing from
the depths of a shallow pool

boiling with fervor
under glass-still surface

with effort i see i can see
through my own reflection

golden-bedrock streambed
red sand flowing downstream

and i know that this river
and my life are forever one

golden chains bind we the people
ancestrally smelted and forged
lashing us to imagined steeples
that we think were built by our lord

a deep seated need to be bound
like craving for love and security
in all can always be found
although veiled with obscurity

like the mountains that rise so high
as if reaching for distant crown
when piercing the cold blue sky
form the storms that then tear them down

that which was started will always end
birth leads to life and then leads to death
and while life itself will fight to defend
its path always leads to the final breath

so we clamor and fight to feel peace
while facing omnipotent demons
and for a moment their whispers cease
as we look to our ignorant beacons

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

Salmon bands scraping horizons.
Slate gray sky is a stage, set for play.
Birdsong warbling, crisp morning breath.
Tree skeletons swaying like anchored gnarled antlers.

Violet western sky, ocean deep.
Dark borders tracing mottled clouds,
highlights illuminated by heaven's gate.
Eroding canyon walls, rushed by angry winds.

i sit in my red-brown chair
my favorite old leather chair
the one with the big brass tacks
and while looking out the window
at the snowy mountain that rises
from the ancient sandy seabed
of the blue-green valley floor
i come to the understanding that
there are bottomless holes
in my heart and soul
that can only be filled by the
golden-orange sunset clouds
as they drift in complimentary contrast
with the wide violet-blue skies

and as the heavenly color fades
i feel a piece of me cry out
fearful of the imminent
blue-black night

the silken thread that binds me
to the voice of the muse
vibrates with her subtle speech
in a way i can’t refuse

stitching heart and mind
though tenuous and fine
the beauty of this filament
is illumined and divine

and though i’ll never claim it
i will seek it all my days
until at last i’m laid to rest
no more to leave her gaze

as his majesty, father sun
cast his loving gaze toward
her highness, mother earth

with her frosty mountains
and snowy plains
her frozen canyons
and crystalized skies

she blushed with
soft pink affection
in the light of his
glowing devotion

inundating the silence
of a frigid-blue dawn
with their lustrous love

deep within her soul
behind a keyless door
sleeps a dancer who flows freely
with the staccato rhythms of life
and that with her fluid motions
creates a shining world of love

but now the goddess sleeps peacefully
hibernating in enchanted lullabies
while shes lays dormant deep within
until her chamber door is opened
and she bursts into radiant life
finally escaping her prison of fear

there's a loathing inside
that i'm loath to admit
but as much as i hate it
i'd be remiss
to ignore and abhor
a piece of myself
until it screams out
in selfish affection
demanding attention
or at least an admission
of that part of me
that's in darkened remission
until the ripe time
it breaks free at last
destroying myself
and all in my path

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

cross the river deep and wide
the gulf of our divide

strain against the current
or ride the raging torrent

stand on this shore with me
together we'll be free

moving mountains to the ocean
like the channel's flowing motion

cross the river deep and wide
the gulf of our divide

it was all very normal
until the pink elephant
walked in and whispered
in the prime minister's ear

when things calmed down
i walked up to the elephant
and while admiring his wings
i asked him what we all wondered

"i delivered the unfortunate news
that the arctic monkeys have all
finally frozen" he said with a smile
have you ever seen an elephant grin?

the wind left my chest with the sight
and blacking out i fell to the floor
the next thing i know i wake up
it's time for the next speaker

one more last time

the words reverberate
wall to wall with distorted echos
that bounce back and forth
with dizzying speed
overlapping like an
uncontrollable origami rose
bursting with organic need

one more last time

in earnest i tell myself
it will stick this time
my will is stronger than
this bottomless red wine
but the bottle is already open
and my glass is nearly empty
this inexplicable thirst
will drive me insatiably mad

just one more last time

the flesh is weak

the way of beauty
is written in the sky
for all to read
with ink made
of sunset

the way of beauty
is recited each dawn
for all to hear
by warbling children
of the dawn's light

the way of beauty
is felt in each heart
and all can know
the shining diamond
the core of every soul

the way of beauty
the peaceful path
is open to all
surrender yourself
know who you are

to walk the path of beauty
is not to shun ugliness
but to lovingly embrace it
until we can see
how beautiful it truly is

to walk the path of beauty
is not to hate the hateful
but to smile toward them
until they see their worth
in the reflection of our eyes

it came as a nervous relief
when it finally cracked
but when it fell
a certain weight
fell off his shoulders
releasing his long-suppressed wings
and now he glides into every sunset
and dives into every sunrise
immersed in celestial-glowing colors
being baptized in the skies
his shining life set ablaze

auburn sunlight filtering through morning fresh hair
heavenly glow reveals my love’s angelic undertones

intertwining braids of steam rise from dark roast
enchanting motes as they rise to join the warm dance

inspired warbling rises and falls reporting sparrow drama
cacophonous nonsensical song language now silent

straw dry grass **** carpeting compound slopes
winds of winter leaving desiccated shells of summer

children questioning endlessly classwork requirements
kitchen table homeroom littered with chromebooks and notebooks

how lucky can one man be