Resonate my veins
Setting my love in motion
Your satin voice
Finding frequencies of truth

Reach
Beyond my dim reflections,
Around the imperfections,
Down the hallways of my heart.

Reach
Because I feel like I am sinking
Beneath this sea of thinking
There's no one with arms that long.

I don't even know what I need to know
To believe You are who You say You are
And that everything's going to turn out grand.
I need to see Your hand.
Reach

I left the seat
in the front row
of the place
with too many lights
for it to have been
that dim
dripping in music from head to toe,
from hip to soul,
listening to my ears and their lobes
ramble on incantations of unknown songs,
enchanting nuances strung throughout their chatter
like puddles strewn across concrete,
like grey matter,
like static
but much more in tune with nature
and far less understandable,
weaving my thoughts through new-found looms
stitching patterns of fumes,
gasses,
smoke and the solemn ashes
of melodies burned alive
under a nearly full moon,
under skies that humm
with the clanging arrival
of moments to be counted,
marked,
measured,
treasured for their value
though it elude all reason
because seasons do not lie
except for early spring evenings
when the lights are fading
and the music you heard playing
is quick to
leave your tongue.
It was all said and done.

One more highway home

among the trees and stargazers,

convincing my eyes

of what my ears have undone.

There are times I wish you would throw out the canvas.
                                        Be as reckless as I love you to be.
Let loose the hold you have fixed on this earth and plunge
               Head-long into the ocean, daring yourself to breathe.
Brush your fingers across the coral until your voice starts to bleed,
                       Then paint the sunken whale bones with your song.
                  Drink chestfuls of love until sobriety loses meaning.
        Tell the world your secrets while it sleeps in your arms.
  Speak with the grace of battering rams and truncheons.
                                       Stretch your mind until it weeps.
                                             Collect these tears in bottles,
                                               Break them on the streets.
          I would hang your soul on my refrigerator door
                                            Any given day of the week.

Run River Run
for your life
for ours
for farmers' daughters
for future sailors
for explorers
for the dead
for valleys
for power
for stories and lies
for nakedness
Run River Run
for your life
for ours
for history
for health
for the money
for the living
for fish
for fires
for ears and eyes
for necessity
Run River Run
for your life
for ours
Run from your mother and never go home.
Run and keep the wind company.
Run River Run
with your pockets full of gold
for your life
for ours

Twelve handlebars and six left feet
Plow their way through arrogant Spring
Catching mouthfuls of melodies that swim the air
Stuffing twenty-two pockets with laughter
     Spitting seeds of care
     From cherry-stained lips
     Into the gulfs of ever afters
Slinking their legs and elbows through rafters
To spy on the honesty present in dreams