Considering hostility
    I feel violent.
Considering wonder
    I am awed.

I heard a French widow
say that there is
someone in each of us
    who loves
and someone in each of us
    who kills.

Take heed, the earth is unforgiving
and can be as potent, subtle,
as poison.
Each gift it has given, rejoice,
for it is unafraid
to take back what it rightfully owns.
Man may say that it controls
the Earth, its resources–
torrents–monumental, crashing–
beg to differ.
We offer our condolences
to an already deafened sky.
Promises to “do better next time.”
Our earth, the stern father
that it is, does not waver.
Instead, slick, clean window panes are beaten
by a downpour, and
asphalt with the thirst of its cracks
quenched are all that we receive.
Field upon field with more moisture
than it can bear.
Who were we not to revere this land,
we who apologize as beauty betrays.

You can describe
The awe inducing beauty
Of a sun kissed morn
Or of the towering, starry night sky
And never realize it's value

We assembled a modest telescope,
To find what sights there were  to see.
I stared, transfixed, at the moon and stars,
In the driveway with all of my family.

I know exactly where I stood,
The moment I would find,
The infinite nature of time and space,
And how it all unwinds.

I asked about the size of the moon,
The distance of its arcing track.
I asked about the space beyond,
The nothing in the black.

I asked my family how big it is.
I asked if anyone knows,
The moon, the stars, and all of it.
I asked how far it goes.

“My son, our curious little one…”,
My parents said to me,
“It has no end”, “It just keeps going”,
“Outward, eternally”.

I stared up into a southern sky,
Ominous, dark as the sea.
And I swear, at that moment,
Looking up,
Something departed from me.

            It flew into the dark of space,
And hasn’t slowed in all this time,
       As far and as fast as information can.
                        The speed of light, I hear…
Which is not so much a speed…
          Hitched, perhaps, to the Voyager probe…
   By these new thoughts inside of my head.
                             But I digress.

This thing  began a journey that,
Must bring it face to face,
With everything that ever was,
Every corner of time and space.
Everything that is yet to come,
Everything that has ever been.
Repeating every history,
It’s trek would never end.

That thought has always stayed with me.
It anchors me, somehow.
A line cast from a sailing ship,
Where I stand upon the bow.
In the oblivion of the infinite,
It grounds me to the “now”.

Out walkin in the moon light, out away from the fire light.
Feelin kinda bored with life, wonder if there's more to life.
Thinkin if the time was right, how to play my cards just right.
It was a starry night, you should have seen the stars that night.
It was marvelous, as I stood there starved of breath.
It was hard to catch, but otherwise it was marvelous.

This clade of “tree”
if  you can believe that
! That this is   what   the
...      silversword alliance technically are.
It's closely related              tarweed...


The first **** wasn’t lonely for long and had
multiple terrains to colonize.
& tall tales take solidified liquid form
from the something
making water like fire
or air we can’t see floating like ice.
Pushed in a away a tsunami
seem small as they cross over the ocean.

Only they roar
louder then anything heard, but a drip
silenced lost lost
to deaf ears
empty troughs of the dunes  
soft sand triumphing over the oceans.


The four subclades within the crossing times
sowed their alliance,
silversword are the tall tales
detail of long ago seemingly insignificant kept
life form, form life , forms
forms life

we know because it’s indistinguishable from the rest.  

probabilities estimates Vertical
no horizontal or dashed lines.
Bound by the ' it was', see.
we are to the way we
were. Read the possible
probability of a tale, A tale  

of a tall tale. Told.
Origination, will, times. They tell,
seconds per island
complex (from left-to-right:
Kaua‘i, O‘ahu, Maui Nui, Hawai‘i).

Living on with a smile,
Transmuting in unknowing,
Swimsuit ready for more suffering,
What a chance! What a circus!
At an end, I say thanks.

I, who have blinked,
And glad to have felt
bed sheets and petals and melancholy moods,
And my god! The blossom and the sadness of falling,
Wretched cold,
Pain of poverty
And power too.
What a life! What a moment!
To it all, I say thank you.

And birds, many times my soul knew you,
And dirt, on my hands grounding my mind,
Dear trees, in my solitude you were always so kind,
What a world! What a time!
I'd live again, rewind.

Good god, great grief!
Reflecting, absorbing, colourful grief,
I can see nothing but through your absolutes,
Look there to that leaf, so soon to be gone,
It is all our death, and beautiful, powerful, terrifying grief.

instrumental
dreamer

time free
to sight see

wide
down
corybantic
oval
perimeter
shedding
tiers

in a garden
of angels
sprinkled
with pine cones
at the border of
void and Vaud

cantons
of meltwater cirque
les petites Fauconnières
the inner basin
of my outer reaches

I am
your
visitor
I am
your
audience

let's
stop
for snow
and polar cap
songs
where things
are still run by the natural elements
instrumental dreamer
not by algorithms
not by advancement