I love the flow, not the rush,
I cherish the spontaneous, not the forced.
I love the natural, not the imitation,
The gentle breeze, not the storm.

I adore a ripple’s soft caress,
Not the crash of towering waves.
I embrace tranquility—
I am peace.

I welcome what is meant for me
And release what is not.

On a cold Thursday morning,
I sit outside, bundled up
in layers upon layers,
battling the weather.

Forty degrees is a heavy burden
for a man raised under an island sun,
beside hibiscus and ixoras.

It eats at my hands,
and feathers my nose.

What a blessing
to feel,
to be alive.

Oh, but what a curse.

Night, blurred lines waver
Tired eyes read denouement
Now sweet sleep beckons.

This day different to the last
by the state of the weather
The length of the journey
The words both spoken and
left unshed.

This day constant in the heart
by the warmth of  the glances
The need of the touches and
The words unspoken, whispered
and openly stated

Now we are at days end
and night  throws it's cape wide
We settle the plotline and savour
the page...
Finis this chapter,
Tommorow a new page

the far edge of your love
rushes into me
like small increments of sugar
stirred into my coffee cup

it is the edge of things
i most desire

golden and violet clouds
settling just above the sea at sunset

the dive into the deep
green sea
and then the slow rise to sun

the far edge of your love rushes to me
like smoldering embers
waiting to be the fire once more

it is the edge of you i most desire
like the end of a ridge looking down
into the clouds below

the far edge of your love
rushes into me
and it is the edge of your love i desire
the perfume of pale blue flowers
the elusive summer captured in your smile
and l'appel du vide

the best fishing trip to the cabin
and we never went fishing,

a torrential down pour.

it rained for 3 days, the electricity

went out and we had charcoal, barbecued
on the porch.

a candle and a lantern.
there were batteries and a radio.

we smoked a joint,
drank beer and we talked
about the the stars
and the care and release of fish.

listened to music...


...an hour before sunrise
I took my fishing pole
and headed down to the river
where the ripples and rapids
mimic modern life

sunrise lit the sky on fire
and slowly off the river the mist rose

mingled into sky

and I spread my brother's ashes in the river
and every river flows to the sea.

(love you, Dean)

F    Fear the water God says you must walk across
A   Allow your mustard seed to germinate
I     Implore the Lord to take your quaking hand
T   Trusting that your feet won’t sink into the brine
H   His hand is strong in yours, so step out now in faith.
                 ljm