A field of four leaf clovers
at the end of a rainbow
a trail of gold coins scattered about
   this is my path
a yellow brick road carved throughout
with lurking black cats and white butterflies
what of luck when you are constantly saddled
with rosemary and lavender
when hummingbirds and crows
seem to follow your every step
I go to sleep in birdsong and wake up to harmony
my luckiest moment?
my luckiest moment??
when I take this breath
  or the next
and the sun continues to shine
I drop a few gold coins
seeding another blessing for another day for another person

Once, neck-deep in a valley
I found a few hundred dollars
on a sidewalk
awaiting my presence
     -happenstance-
Once, I left my job
to freefall and never land
and I am still floating
      -coincidence-
Once, I met a witch
who blessed me with
copal and quartz and oil
and the anointing still stands
my luckiest moment???

Tomorrow
when serendipity meets mundane
and the die roll 7, 7 times
as if I live in complete abundance
I do not know of failure, only progress
and so perhaps, just maybe
my next step will be my best
if only to bare my sole to the world
and be received

My luckiest moment is a thread
of gold constantly woven into a legacy quilt
and is it just me
or did it just get warm ~ cozy
this is my life
and to live it
is the dream I used to sleep on
but I can hear steady chirps
and so I know I'm awake
   and well
at the end of some rainbow
crunking with leprechauns
and shooting loaded dice
luck? luck?!?!

I cannot lose.

maggots transmute flesh to humus
make soil of living organism
reduce legacy to new origin
   leaving translucent threads
a baby's heartbeat resets
as spirit sits in waiting room
pitch black     soaking

under an ancestral dome of dementia
stars have forgotten their shine
   fallen out of place
shattered the illusion of enlightenment

good enough thunder laughs
its echo ripples through darkness
good enough               good enough
lightening strikes the same place twice
leaves scorched birthmark of miracle
and the cosmos joins in on the laughter

the baby cries
naked and afraid
vulnerable to all the fears of this world
failure, rejection, unfulfilled potential
danger lurking in every unknown

yet before depression or anxiety
there was love
four chambers murmering of invisible strands
and moist nothingness
of faint lights that felt familiar
shimmering fractals of reflection

past-life breakthroughs
are now present-life obstacles
purged of perspective
maggots dance the funky noodle
attempting a perfect circle
-this is integration
   post-waiting room
a glimpse into the cosmic joke

and the baby laughs
a thunderous chorus of stardust
  surrendering fear to the maggots
fiber twines its way
from heart to heart to heart
flashing a golden web of interconnectedness

the baby is you
   and I
and even before we learn to crawl
we are walking blessings
we should stop more often
and appreciate this birthmark of truth

in this present moment
I gift you- peace     love     and     understanding
that from flesh to humus
you are
    More Than Enough

the refraction of light is an illusion
optical perspectives
bouncing off every surface imaginable
picking up color along the way
leaving a blended trail in the wake
crest-blown
star-torched
never to be replicated again

what is art besides an unconscious dance
a spread of the unknown on canvas skies
constellations to be read into
and misinterpreted

your hands hold mirrors
whose lifelines mimic colored paths
do not claim grayscale
instead kick over paint buckets
smother
smudge
cover every extremity
and then
     touch everything
this is life
but also
this is beauty

marvel at the marvelous marble
   once polished to shine sheer miracle
the beauty is in the detail
chiseled curves that make art of physics
philosophy of feeling
defying reason in smooth yet rigid contours
defined by...
                   ...well escapes definition
   tells words to keep on rambling
      this picture is far too monumental
and yet it never moves
permanent freeze frame
standing testament that
new lessons can be learned from old things

once an alter
the foundation has not been swept
dust allowed to admire more than hands
yet shine marble shine!
such offerings I wish I could bring still
but spirit has retreated to novel space unknown
memory cherished nonetheless
copper bronzed in gold
and then dipped
again
and again
and again
just for the smile of it
what of distance when I can always visit the statue
and it stands
in the plaza of my mind- centerpiece

I lost grasp of peace for a while
in thoughts of forcing actions and pressing paths
but respect is the math that allows non-possessive love to still caress
I think it may be time to rinse the feet
   and crown
to renew the version I met via happenstance
  or fate
     or miracle
dust the eyes so I can see a future again
a testament still
   but to the person or to love
the idea of both are motionlessly entangled
cast for a never-ending tango
of stoicism vs passion
and yet
   she smiles
and so I smile
in longing of her
in remembrance of her
in release of her
with hopes that where ever her spirit now flutters
she is poetry in motion
still, for peace only
and then on to the next breath of art
I hope that her eyes see futures of gold
where ever her feet adorn
the world's statue
that must still dance
     free

The green
both flat and curved- depending on your angle
we bounce about it
intentional but aimless
creeping
colliding
curving around each other
in search of homes
pockets of solace
places to hold us whole
and it would seem that nothing moves us
yet behind every movement is a force
a guiding hand poking, prodding
inertia perhaps
if only straight lines were easier to maintain
maybe then we could find rest
and win
omit gravity and rotation and friction
and all the powers that work against
and momentum would be the only factor
Well…
     that and direction
     the right position
     skill
    it would still require skill
    and a cue or a clue
(there are so many factors)
as to if we belong in corners
or on the side
so without
we scratch and scratch and scratch our heads
until the right position finds us
shot after shot
until the right position finds us
some find rails to rebound off
cushioned at every turn
others nothing but open space
funny how
before the breakout
we all started from the same rack
yet space is all there is
are we really the masters of our fate
and who’s to say that the end is actually final

the 8-ball finally sinks below the horizon
and someone in the distance calls rerack

Pro
Random
Organized
Vindication,
Intuition led
Divinely rewarded,
Enter thresholds graciously,
Not timely but always on time,
Care and covering in purest form
Esoteric benevolence abounds

Moon at your side
Sun at your back
the stars have already laid a path
your reputation precedes you
step into the shade of your presence
and be present
Now
Now
Now, is the moment of conception
clarity is an all-encompassing sight
be the landscape that is your greatness
and let the light and the shadows
fall where they may