Rain-scented perfume, this
Aromatic smell of rain-soaked earth
Monsoon-infused, centuries-old.

A man turns his head towards the laughter
As he crushes a batch of ancient clay.
Knowingly his attention returns to his family.

It is the smell of the baked, parched soil
When the first rains arrive after the drought
Which concerns the artisan of scented oils.

The enticing fragrance fills the air
With each precious drop of heavy syrup
Eked from the ages, eked from eternity.

Captured in the tiny bottle, power-filled.
The process has survived the fall of civilizations
And empires and conquerors.

It is said to have healing powers.
Aged like the land and its ancient people,
Deep and rich, the liquor of the essence of time.

It must come from this land, this people.

Different moments throughout our lives,
The passing of time, who we are changing
Throughout the years, evolving, letting go 
Are not unlike the participating self-evolvement
Over the course of living. Yet, disease takes away
These basic anchors of reality, time, and place,
And all the coordinates that we rely on
In every moment of our lives are suddenly lost.

Once the ribbons of colors, layered
Peach, tangerine, deep lavender,
(Which cradled the struggling sun)
Decide the child has grown enough
Up and out into the world's view
It slides breaking free of its bands.
It is a new day, and it reigns in glory
In the clear blue of the sky of day.

Out of rosebud lips
Set in honey-hued skin
Love begins to speak, again.

And to hearts it whispers,
"Now listen to me friend."
Then leads that heart astray.

Within windows of desire,
Now flung open wide, it inspires
Many a Billet Doux, sweet love notes

Written from me to you.

At times I catch glimpses of my own mortality.
The fact that although I am present in this moment
I will be gone and become the past.  A memory.
At least one could, would, should hope for that.

Family, those present and gone are always, in effect, present
With me.  My ancestors live large in my life because I choose
To remember their existence, that they acted, were once here.
And thus, it is I who, now, hope to remain, if only in this way.

Yes, it's a surreal way to live.  Past and present meld into future.
And one never knows who it is that will make the choice
To recall, call the name, think upon some act once engaged in.
Yet, we all live side by side in a continuum of time.

Her fears rise-up like a great angry bird suddenly
Flapping black wings. Flitting here, then there.
Glimpses of what had been, what was, what might be.
But these are only the shadows of clouded eyes
Dulled with age and thickened in time.
Held within a brain dulled and thickened the same.
Shadows had darkened her life before,
Throughout her almost 90 years.  Now once more
They were back like an unwanted friend,
Yet these had never really been real
Only in that they now grip her life.

Eons and generations
Come and go.  You remained,
Standing in freezing cold,
Through withering heat.
Sunrises and sunsets
Marked the days and nights.
Comets streamed past,
You, looking skyward to witness.
You became a beautiful green meteor
Falling to earth.

There are weeds that exists only
In the minds of short-sighted ones
Who fails to see their beauty.

This chapter is now closed.
Relegated to the last vestiges,
Foggy scenes through time's mist.
Memories can become happier,

Now faded and worn.
Time's safe place, fuzzy and warm
Is like a sweater that you only pull out
For a season then pack away until next time.

When I was a teen you Texas two-stepped me around the floor
When the family went to Eddie's Country Ballroom.  
You insisted we learn to dance.
"Just relax.  Follow me." you'd say "1-2-3, 1-2-3, see?" And I did.
When older, you walked me down the aisle of Grace Episcopal Church.
As we slowly stepped in metered step, we moved down the aisle in a kind of a dance.
"Just lean on me." you said.  And I did.

The warning was clear
If you leave
You can never come back
And with that
They killed off the character

His words wrapped around my very bones
Their underpinning became fragile
And began to crack and crumble

Just as the empty shell of an egg brakes apart
With a sudden thwack

His words stabbed deep into my heart and back
Like some black worm gnawing at the roots
The plant we grew together withers and dies

At times we are all fragile.
Casual words spoken at the time
Can cut to the bone
Leaving you hurt and feeling alone.

It's not another's responsibility to nurture you.
Only you can keep "you" from feeling like a fool.
Thus, tap deep into the core of who you really are
And all the good you may have wished to do.

Then ask yourself: What part did I play
In making the world the worse or better today?
Could my next actions alter those next casual words
Said with such disregard or even said in mirth?

The only "I" that is within my own control
Is the better "I" that slowly comes to the old.
That which has the hardest time erasing pasts acts
Can bring the knowledge that all things change and pass.

Even self-worth.

Should an army of emotions
Set up a camp against me
My heart will not fear
Though war break out against me
Even then, I will not fear
My confidence is a stronghold
When you are near.

When I hear that piece I will think of you.
The fading memory will start anew.
Recessed within a heart and mind
I soon will find,
You.

Love ignited flames, the torch threw
Sleep sweet, my Only - to rise anew
Faith & steady hope, I know to be true

But, my Only, I will be missing you
For my love, my Only, you died too soon
And I will wait, if need be, for an eternity

Moon, intermingle all shadows and light,
Your underbelly glows, bathed in warmth
Your earth is washed in glow even in the night

With an unobstructed horizon, I see you peeking
Until the bright yellow sun comes creeping
And all past is the unquiet sky of storm

Night, crowded with a pale haze, a lavender mystery
Even darkness was grateful that the moon wasn't having it
As it beamed through low whispered wind and intrigue intermingling
Continue your deep slumber, uninterrupted by any queries or controversies
The last few lights go out as dreams are counted one by one, longings promised
Yet, unfulfilled and unfulfillable when the night sky has other plans for sleeping heads
The oldest secrets are explained in unknown languages in encrypted symbols held within a fog
Across galaxies streaming onwards from its origins into the present constellations of understanding
The moon and its mythology wrap the night around a soul that wants to hide among the warm lavender night

Dream about it,
Then pray for forgiveness,
Why shouldn't you?  I do.

Just a bite of the forbidden fruit
And the poison would rush in
Throughout our veins

This is a study in futility
For neither of us will bite
Even to die in one another's arms

As all the lovely birds fly by, and
I am held, breathless, in this moment
Transfixed to the beauty of time and space
And the continuum of time and times and tides;
Across a sky lit by the morning sunrise.
I am caught in the thought, "What is a sunrise?"
It is a sight out the window of life, yes.  Thus,
As the earth slowly turns we get to watch it go by
Ever so slowly and we think we are seeing the sun "rise."
And thus "the world turns" imperceivable in its orbit,
A blue orb in a graceful dance with a bright orange orb.
All the lovely birds have since flown into the morning;
While standing here still I am wondering,
"What is a sunrise, really?

Hailstones
Ringing tones
Water flow
Windblown
Plane flown
Things that go
Sometimes fast,
Sometimes slow,
Life goes on and on

Watching a death can consume you
With each heaving breath.  Is this the last?
Where the death rattle that is said will come?
When will the peace, the angelic expression,
Spread across the pale tortured face?
I have seen it, and yet I watch and wonder,
When, when, when both our release?

Fade away flowers,
Just as my love has.
Do not return to grip me
In illusions, in delusions of love.

Brittle each leaf, each rotting bloom
Live for an eternity in this box;
Until the garbage heap consumes you
Just as my love has me.

Somewhere, I may never have traveled,
Haunts my memory in foggy dreams

I smell the fire in the fireplace burning
I see the cabin door swinging

Outside the snow that had fallen
Lies melting, hardening to ice

Mountain air fills my lungs and exhilarates
With the smell of pine and of juniper and cedar

A distant crow's caw brings me back to reality
And I am suddenly in the snow at the door of a cabin

Somewhere I may never have traveled to

Grape kisses
On eyelids
Purple shimmers
Across the cheeks
Button nose aglow
Eyes that sparkle
Mine and yours
We walkthrough
An exquisite tunnel  
Cascading with flowers
Of wisteria tunnels
I lead you out
You want to stay
Forever, you say

Hot
Like a summer rain
Which sizzles
When it strikes
Heated pavement
Dripping wet
We step out
Of the water
Honeydew
And watermelon
Dribbling
Down our mouths
Going down
An orange sun
Hangs briefly
Then dips
Beneath
The horizon
Heat is quivering
Across the grass
You brush aside
The damp clump
Of hair stuck
To my cheek
And it is mouth
On mouth, again

Mouth on mouth
Resuscitating
Pounding chest
Breathing for you
Until pale skin
And all is lost

Sudden spark
Then faint pink
Tiny thumping
Vigor renewed
Again I breathe
For you

He had been a philosopher
A bard of sorts
Debonair in his quietude

And the sweetest rogue

When maidens aplenty were near
As they were wont to do
They swooned

When pressed he was chivalric

Yet, not a dragon-slaughter
O he kept them in his dungeon
To limit their harm

Along with his other guests

If a thought is as good as a prayer

Then I pray for you often
Throughout the day.

You are in my heart and mind
In so many ways.

If a thought is as good as a prayer
Then you should be very blessed.

Thoughts of you, dear friend,
Ascend from me to the heavens, themselves.

Thoughts are as good as a prayer, aren't they?

It all began with a moon;
A waxing gibbous moon
Glistening in the sky;
Beauty staring back at me
Within my glassy eyes.
Anchored to the jutting rock
Which is just above the rise
Are my hope and dreams
Of sailing throughout time.
In a celestial sailboat with wings
Onward I would glide.
On through time and tide,
With flags and ribbons streaming,
Fluttering in the breeze, I slide
Into swirling lovely slipstreams
Ever onwards I am steaming
Way up high and dreaming
In a celestial sea vast and wide
If only in my mind!

The thrill as some flighty creature glides past
Then soon the heart stills, discernment at last.

It was only a brief flutter on shaded-out wings
Quickly glimmered in the evening breeze.

It was only a shadow so why truly care?
This time of day aren't shadows everywhere?

Like vehicles zipping by on the freeway
in the distance
The many shore birds glide

The yellow haze from Saharan dust hangs
in these skies
Bird and man alike breathe in the remains

The garden squash is smoldering in the heat
its blooms struggle
As we all seem to whither in heat and repeat

I sit with the AC blaring and under a fan
still melting
Like cotton candy on a hot, dry sand

Today, there's much obscenity and conspiracy
eagerly accepted
But "climate change" is considered insane

With death threats for the scientists bandied about
miss led and miss guided ones
Spew vile foolish reproofs with loud shouts

Yet, even though their labor seems in vain
they continue the message
With dignity, diligence, and love for fellow man.

I will build a castle from the rubble of love
And send out invitations on the wings of doves
Encouraging all to come

Come to share in this banquet so richly prepared
Come enjoy joyful gatherings beyond all compare
In this castle that Love has built

There's a hard wind blowing from the north;
And the wintertime has become so harsh.
Yet, I'll not worry, not for long, because
Long before the summertime comes again
I'll be gone.

For there's silver in my wings so strong.
If I spread them wide they’ll turn to iron;
And I will fly up to the sky and across the sea.
For there's alchemy for this silver in my wings.
Yes, I'll soon be gone.

A bed should be free of smells,
Stinky tails, and most important, liars!

A bed must be free of crumbs, bums,
And by all means bugs!

When climbing on board
Ask: How far can I go in this thing?

Can I wrap and roll in coolness?
Will it hold up in "rough seas"?

A bed should be a safety haven,
A garden of delight in which to. . .

Get the needed rest that one desires.

Splayed and 'splooting'
With the cool pavement colluding
A massive heat sync necessary
On such a hot day.

You are looking at me
With adoring eyes
Imagining that you see
Perfection

I reach for you in the dark
The sheet is cold
My side is warm
Amidst star-shine through
The curtain, a light
Which only illuminates
The sparkle of my tears

You rambler, brier bush, spreading outward
Seeking to entangle my leg in a thorny grasp.
To your pleasure, you try reaching wide crossing a thigh.

What sick joy is held at the sight of tiny red dots of blood
Which sting up and down my limbs?
Yet, I have the last word, so to speak, as I reach.

Gingerly, deftly, reaching in I get what I seek
Then let your purple blood run down my mouth!

When I was a child thistles grew in the countryside
And we both ran wild across the green
Me on legs, it sends out seeds and systems of roots
Yes, the thistle intrigues me with its stately air, and

Even as a child, I would lie nearby to study it;
It with its bold, untouchable beauty standing
On hollow strong stem holding its pink head proudly
I had not realized it was connecting to a Scottish soul

When the mowers came and crossed its path
I would find them butchered among the grass
And pause to examine just how tender
This vulnerable, this seemingly iron-clad plant

Touch-me-not, better left free, for one cannot hold
The prickly beauty to one's breast nor remain unharmed
If enticed by its charm to grasp its prickles and thorns
When cut it quickly dies, thus you must love it from afar.  

I know people like that
My desire remained strong and I have longed
Merely to be near this wild ephemeral creature
For the air is sweetest where the thistle grows.

Rare and unusual even among the ill,
Neurosis and psychosis wrap around him
Like a warm, protective blanket.

Thwack! upside the head, "Hello!"
Reality is calling on deaf ears.
The knock never loosens nor
dislodged the blockage in them. He is
Building his life, if only in his own mind,
Second by second, wake to sleep, day after day;
Serving to preserve this foggy unreal thinking.

A magical sort of twilight within continually twinkles.
And a crafty, but ill and calculating brain remains
Though truth slaps him in the face, again and again,
Even as he lives in his own cocooned mind.
The reality within the reality which he continues to create
Is so much work on the part of his many lifetime enablers
But it is all too little effort by him for anything but himself.

You were a wild, tortured soul
It would take a warrior to tame
The beast that lodged within you

And so I fought in full-battle gear
Until I could not go on and lay down the sword
My armor had dropped off year after year

Until I was naked before all, defeated
Now you are dead my love,
But not by my hand.

I arrived in the pouring rain,
Still, I don't want to forget
Not one single thing.
How on that radiant day
Hearts throbbed and overflowed.
It is then that we came to know
What it means to love.

I love you beyond the moon
Beyond the stars

Beyond all reason
Beyond any metaphor

Which I could create
And then I love you still

Beyond the body and mind
Limits set not by man, but God

On and on, and yet more
Beyond time, tide, shores

Then, my darling, I love you
Beyond these boundaries

And back again.

Touch
A heightening of senses

Touch
Bristling beneath it

Horripilation
Sweeping up bodies -

From the Latin, horrere pilus,
"to bristle" + "hair" -

The most delicious
Can be the most poisonous

Exploding with each
Touch

Anticipation erupts
Touch

At the very thought
Of such delicious fruit

Touch

We are like a car the owner can scarcely afford to keep.
America is a loud muffler sputtering,
Wired-up that was cheaply maintained.
Problem is there's a gaping big hole in it.
No patch can fix it.  
Yet, we sputter on.

(A little ditty for the friend which we all have.)
Je t'aime,
Yet again!
No, no, no
This time it's real
She says,
Yet again!

Misses Pifflewhiff was a strange old gal;
She was away with the butterflies
Most of the time.

(I know what you are thinking.)

No, she never went with the fairies.
No fairies for her.  She preferred butterflies.
And on their wings, the old gal would fly;

In her imaginative way of thinking.

Blindingly bright lights pin-point;
And then you touch.

Experiencing love for the 1st time;
Throbbing heart constricting.
A lump in the throat
Caught in a dry strangle, one gasp,
Lightheaded.  Breathe!  
Thick, dense air.
Full sensory at capacity;

And you touch, again.
Then we fall and fall and fall.

My days had gone by more quickly than a weaver’s shuttle,
And they came to an end without hope.
     - Until I looked back at the tapestry that had been woven.