we walk the path to the spring
where the waters come constant
from the ground unfreezing
warm enough for duckweed to thrive
even in blue winter,
deep with snow.

the air holds few sounds,
the snap and tumble of tree limb,
river's crashing iced sheets,
the click and kew of the junco,
wind, amplified one hundred fold
razor sharp in the cold.

how does the waters know
who told it; here.
it's here that you will rise,
at the end of a path in a small cleft,
said by locals to be the gathering
place of the ancients, the fairies
and the dead who died before their time?

we come to the spring and beside it
as deep in the snow
as we are in its mysteries,
we become a part of the story
reassured that the promise
of the thaw is as constant
as the coming march sun
and the ever flowing water
at our feet.

The Cerulean ocean smiles
And so did the siren at my feet
So did the lover near the shore
Their singing-sick voice spoke

"Come to the water"
As he whispered like a tempter
He whispered like a snake
His tail splashed the water

His image flickered for a second
Once, a perfect angel, then a devil
A perfect angel, then a devil
His spell was working

My legs moved before my brain
Like I was in the grasp of love
I was in the grasp of love
I'm a hopeless romantic

My feet touched the water
Almost in the Ocean blue
In the Ocean blue
So close to my...lover?

Watch for the poison,
in the search for hydration.

5-** Water

The lamplight falls across the polished wood,
where two hands rest on either side of empty space.
A stillness settles in the quiet room,
the sound of breath, a gesture of the chin.
We watch the simple dance of light and shadow.
The world outside is muted by the glass,
and we are held within this silent frame,
a perfect stillness before any start.

I feel the pull of all that we have not yet said, The Unwritten Map.
A quiet faith that grows in this new silence.
It is a choice, this beautiful uncertainty,
a silent promise that will never fade.
I feel the purpose in this endless journey,
a gravity I choose to stand within,
a knowledge in my soul that you are home.
My heart is listening for the sound of you.

The days unfold like a series of small, new revelations.
The way your eyes catch light when you are moved.
The gentle rhythm of your footsteps in the hall.
A fleeting sadness I observe behind your laughter.
A book left open to a favorite page,
a melody you hum beneath your breath.
These threads are woven into a design,
creating the tapestry of who we are.

This patient unfolding, this sacred distance, is love's true beginning.
We walk an unhurried road, The Unwritten Map.
I learn the cadence of your quiet moments.
We fill the empty spaces with a gentle kindling,
a patient unfolding, a chosen gravity.
The future is a landscape for our hands to draw.
We are the two rivers, and our separate paths
have brought us to this one, converging shore.

Even here, miles from town,
Joshua trees raise twisted arms,
like dancers locked in a song’s last note.

I lower myself,
not as a hero in the final act
but as an old father grown tired,
disc inflamed in the back,
knuckles scraped, work
too new for such an old body.

My youth spent bent in labor,
family cut away in anger.
Before I rot away in some churchyard,
I kneel with the fool’s wish
that the spring could wash it all from me.

The sun drags its red spine
across the ridge.
Stone steadies my shoulders in its cool grip
I dissolve into cloud,
a child warmed in arms of water,
its breath rising around me like ghosts.

Rain breaks, sudden and brief.
Creosote exhales its sly, eternal smell.
A cairn rises from the sand,
stones balanced without name-
its long shadow
measures this sand in silence.

Alkali on skin,
sulfur edge to air,
dust on tongue.

Gravity presses,
bone across rock,
and heat seams my back-
a mercy scraped thin,
hours from the outskirts.

A mountain hangs upside down
on the pool’s surface.
I drink not my reflection,
but the earth’s fire gone gentle.

Shower Power does it for Me! He He!
And You don't need to See!
Oh but I feel so Free, Relieved.
The Water hits me on the outside
And stirs the inspiration inside
Till I ride the high tide
Of my amazing Mind!

DLR - 07.09.2025