Dream and wander,
little one,
even in the dark.
Search heaven for stars,
find stardust in your
searching!
The brightsome scatter of lights,
fleeting before your eyes, leaps
forth from your listed and
longed for desires.
Even in the shivery
nightshade you waste
not a moment!
Your muse calls,
casting spells from a wand,
and you quest after, bravely,
breathless.
A child's sojourn into the fabled forest,
with her stardust eyes,
her Hafling host leaves it's
trace in the snow, glistening.
Her breath, now vaporous, rises in pursuit.

Black rose, with seam of gold,
Visions penetrate the air
With mysteries untold.
An ancient word spoken,
A waxen seal is broken;
Crow's flight stabs the sky,
As blood flows from a lie.
Poisoned knowing,
Wisdom divine.
Wind of change blowing,
We perceive the sign.
All our days are counted
And seen from above.
All our fears surmounted
When we take flight in love.

Of all the kinetic ripples
that shimmer across
our luminiferous
sweep of sky,
none move me like
the voyage of sleek Sakiya,
Princess of pristine flight!
Her poise is subtle,
her path a prance,
she springs upon the air
with ballon buoyance!
It is the pantomime dance
of her spirit
which keeps her
tracing the clouds,
and her quixotic beauty
should never be covered by shrouds.
With a boundless grace and
her beatific face, we are often
reminded of angels
winging in space!
I lift my heart
as she skims the sky,
with my belief in miracles
beaming from my eyes.
Lovely Sakiya, Princess of Flight,
May your cherry blossom spirit
always reach new heights!

Look up into cool, soft water-green
leafen shapes.
Earthen grays and browns,
that with boughs reach out and surround.
These lofty arms, hands and
wooden fingers drape
the sky as a mild, wild canopy enclosure.
They impart a misty ambiance,
all silent and palpable,
offering a living stave for the avian
creatures to create their songs upon.
The forest primeval, our ancient home.
Enter and feel your core awaken,
hear your soul whisper
long forgotten secrets,
sense your skin drinking
in the moist air like a parched traveler
arising from a desert of bone and rock.
Your intuition tells the truth:
The Mother welcomes you.

Good morning. I am watching "La La Land" with my coffee. The film is compelling, have you seen it? Great stuff. But, no, as the film suggests, we can't let Jazz die. It's like the bees. We cannot survive a planet with no bees. That's a deal-breaker, full stop. Same with Jazz. Jazz music falls under the category of "That which our living blood cannot do without", you know? Yes, we need the meaner things of life, stuff like clothes and money ("meaner" indeed), but Jazz...that music is like the musical equivalent of great literature. Great books, great Jazz, great nights where you don't want to go to sleep, great...great world. So, let's keep that going, folks. Also, what ever happened to "Boy Meets Girl"? It seems like Girl Meets Girl and Boy Meets Boy are doing ok, but what about...you know, or maybe it's just MY Boy Meets Girl. Yup, probably that. Anyway, great movie. Great coffee too.

It seemed so much had been lost.  

So much had slipped through
A grasping hand,
A yearning heart,
A desperate mind
As mine.

The dull march of days present
Was shadowed by the
Gloom of regrets and
Shrieked by a shrill wind at lonely,
Bitter hours.  
What was mine? What was ours?
Gone for good and all?

My love, it seemed, was only
Ever a dark dream.
In my swelling and stinging agony,
Love was
As a locked door
And my heart was a bloodied fist
Beating against it.  
A wraith-like specter of doubt clung to me
With oppressive raiment,
Scrapping over exposed skin
Like course, mortifying fabric.  

Then, from out of a pristine past,
A voice  
Called out to me.  
The herald of an angel
Rung clear and glad as winter bells,
Celebrant!  
The dark narcissus of mortality was
Driven off!
The burial cloak was split;
The stone was rolled back!  

A hope newly found
Surrounds and soars above me,
As a deep, azure ribbon of
Stretching, unending sky!

I am imbued with cheering thoughts
Of our days gone by!
Glories recalled in a moment relived;
Revelries and song lifted with voices
And hearts, stout and full!

Together,
With my beautiful Eurydician queen;
Returned, she was,
From an underworld of time.
We coax and stir
The memories of first passions,
Innocent, powerful and pure.
We are now bending
The arc of our history,
Rending the precious pearl of affection
From the murky domain of
A love denied.  
Renewed and viewed through  
Prismic fractures of sadness
And through the sharp focus
Of blue eyes, in rapt recognition,
Surprised!  

Today is reborn,
Lived again and again,
With each pulse of the clock,
Each beat of my heart.  
The blood within
Is purged of that familiar poison.  

All is potent and refreshed:
You, your face, your voice, your touch, your scent,
Your vibration pours to and through me, once again!
Oh, true friend,
Tender lover,
Gently knocking at my door.
You return from distant lands
Remote and misty,
Bringing light and love
To my lonely shore.
I approach from my realm,
Far removed.  
Age and ages have chiseled
The shape of my soul.
In part, it is smoothed;
Refined with wisdom, empathy, and clarity.
Also, though,
It is,
In part,
Broken, jagged, and cracked,
As the forgotten sculptures
Of ancient empires,
Renowned
And doomed.

Yet I realize, all at once,
That I am not forgotten.  
I am not doomed
To shadow.
I breathe,
I seek,
I still have hope and
Words to tell!
And I still have my love for you!
My life is now freed from that
Sad spell.  

This breath,
This stony soul
(Sculpted by the Artist of Pain)
And this trammeled heart
Trembles in desire of
Your beauty,
Your touch and
Your presence --
Your calming presence,
Bringing levity,
Reassurance
And familiar stories of
Hopeful remembrance.  
From love recalled,
Comes your unexpected
Embrace and
Sweet sign of friendship.

That time of distress has come and
Gone and we turn to discover that
Our tender connection remains,
True and undefeated!
It rises with the earliest song
Of still sleepy birds,
Lilting on the cool air of the morn.  

This uplifting emotion
Again flows within me,
As an angel granting absolution,
Touching me in a place
As deep as first love.  

Welcome!

Get up close
To life outside of your
Lonely room.
Take time to see the floral
Subtlety, the elegance of
Nature's ornaments, the
Nuance of the bloom.
Bring a sober silence to
The simple sculpting of
That sacred whisper.
Allow your soul to sip from
The pure expression
Of creation's petalled cistern.
Each of these sprouts show us
What we are made of.
Each lovely thing speaks
The eternal truth: we, also,
Are formed in love.
Touch the petals, smell the scents,
And respect the earth!
Every moment she recreates
Herself anew, and signals a
Pristine birth.
Every moment her beauty
Calls out the herald!
So let us always resonate
With this life force that reveals
Itself in our embattled world.
Let nature show us the way
And we can find our true selves again.
We are made from a love wondrous,
Living in a world of reviving hope and
Possibilities boundless!

"...Tell me, for Love's sake, what is that flame which burns in my heart and devours my strength and dissolves my will? What are those hidden soft and rough hands that grasp any soul; what is that wine mixed of bitter joy and sweet pain that suffuses my heart? What are those wings that hover over my pillow in the silence of Night, and keep me awake,watching no one knows what? What is the invisible thing I stare at, the incomprehensible thing that I ponder, the feeling that cannot be sensed? In my sights is a grief more beautiful than the echo of laughter and more rapturous than joy. Why do I surrender myself to an unknown power that slays me and revives me until Dawn rises and fills my chamber with its light?  Phantoms of wakefulness tremble between my seared eyelids, and shadows of dreams hover over my stony bed. What is that which we call Love? Tell me, what is that secret hidden within the ages yet which permeates all consciousness? What is this consciousness that is at once origin and result of everything? What is this vigil that fashions from Life and Death a dream, stranger than Life and deeper than Death? Tell me, friends, is there one among you who would not awake from the slumber of Life if love touched his soul with its fingertip?"

Life is conceived from the marriage of love and light,
Life shines from before and behind the eyes.
It always is, was, and will always be,
It is created but is also endless, eternally.
We take part in the flow, flown, fleeting
River of time, of experience,
Of wandering and wondering why.
Wisdom turns to emotion and to confusion, to
Desperation -- our troubled trek trails by.
But never shall we forget
The essence of what makes us human:
Love. Light. Creation. Delight. Imagination;
All that which is ageless, generatively potent,
Desperately seeking, and passionately reaching
For the final expression of hope.

Who knows how it will end…
Or if we will begin
All over again?
Whether in shattering sound
Or a silence within ---
The soul’s secret whisper,
Or lips close to the skin?

But change will come.
(Changesendandbeginagain!)

Change:
While kneeling, standing or running;
Change while singing, dancing, or loving!  
Whether at the start
Of something shiny new or
To end in a fearful, cataclysmic coup,
We will see it through.

We may be
All poured out,
Reduced and
Dissolved
Into a pristine and naked
Newness.  
We may not recognize the path and
We may fall,
Fetal (not fatal), to the ground.
Tears may flow, hot and wet,
And, as babies will,
We make a sound -- a loud cry
That flies when it hurts
And when we are alone.
Arms outstretched
In perpetual longing;
The space between
Is eternity…
And our cry reaches
Just as far.  

But there will come
A second breath,
Leaping from the depth of being.
Reflexive reaction in shock
Of sheer brightness
In seeing –
Brilliant vision, clear and wide,
A jewel revealed deep inside.
A light shared between us and all,
A blinding fulmination as lightning fall!

From season to season and year to year;
From rugged courage to raging fear.
From small town boy to worldly man --
From joy to sadness and then….

To know why without knowing how.
To advance without knowing where!
To see, unblinking, in a glooming midst,
While light and sound explode around us,
Still….a preternatural daring is expressed.

For one way may suddenly be closed,
Yet another swings open, as if
From binary pre-design.
We need only turn from the wall we see  
To walk through the way we find.

You will enter a new field of experience.  
You will reach beyond any
Hope of control -- to just
Accept and respond.

This is why!
This is how!
This is new
And this is you.
You are…

Change.

You must come to realize,
One day in your life,
That when your heart expires
Your soul will end its strife.
You cannot go on in her absence,
You have constant need of her heat.
So, to live your life in full, learn that
Your heart, alone, will make you complete.

I.: “A strange terrain…”  

From the deep
And desiccated
Heart
Of an immensity, daunting…
Clutched by sheer solitude
And a silence haunting,
She awakes.
In the incommensurable
Night of her desert chimera,
She peers out, trembling, into
The black void of this
Trackless Sahara.

She embarks on a desperate journey
In a soundless surround.
Within a palace of nowhere
She stumbles on, bereaved,
By crippling confusion bound.
Above, a waxen moon stares
Suspended in a luminous stance.
Below, she travels that cavernous
Wilderness, lingering in a troubled
Trance.

Searching stars, of countless cluster,
Cast a beguiling play of light.
Lurking shadows and
Lunar-glow wash,
Shape-shifting,
A ghostly white.
The diamond powder glitter,
Spread out before her dashed
And bloodied feet, make her eyes
Shimmer in false hope;
This mirage of caprice
Is complete.

Her desert is a dark season
Of the soul;
She is tormented by
A scorpion’s brood of doubt
And fear’s locust-curse control.
The blistering sun of self-contempt,
With poisoned, burning breath,
Blows sands of insecurity,
Amidst a landscape
Littered with death.
A strange terrain where
Gaunt relics
Jut out like shards
Of broken clay;
Where lowering spirits
Whisper and tempt,
While heaven’s angels delay.

In this turbulent place,
Where all fall short of grace,
Her demons she must face.

II.: “A deathly fate…”

Almost petrified from dread,
Locked in a battle within,
She hears the roar of her accusers,
The devils screaming out her sins.
Before the scorching, scraping,
Acidic assault of Hell, she senses
The slippery ***** of escape.
A specter calls to her,
With sweet and
Sultry tones,
Urging a deathly fate.

This is the final,
Baleful temptation:
The impulse to give up
And give in.
To turn her faith over to the
Fury of these fiends of
Dark desolation.
The decision weighs like a millstone,
To accept the judgment of the ******.
And, as through parched fingers,
To let her soul sift
Like burning sand.
To allow them to destroy that one,
Most precious gift --
That unalloyed beauty,
That jewel resplendent --
Her Life, the wind that
Gives her wings lift.

III.: “She fights back…”

Stripped bare and exposed to
Danger -- this vortex of distress
And focused anger -- her soul’s
Crimson sap rises to the surface,
Quickened and engaged for
Priceless purchase.
Then, a voice from inside comes as
An insurgency!
It screams desperately
And shouts with urgency!  
It tells of a mission that is not yet finished;
A calling that is not complete
And bruised fortitude to replenish.
In the presence of a
Demonic challenge,
She dedicates herself to honesty and
To undimmed belief
In her God-given quality!
She makes a firm pledge
To an unflinching embrace
Of what is.

She fights back with wits and instincts.
She does not wilt from the risks but
Rears up, steeled and retributive!

All at once, the trance is broken, and the
Sadness is shattered.
Her spirit vibrates with
Power and the devils are scattered!
She now has the courage to diagnose
What is guile and what verity.
She calls forth the medicine of the
Artist’s ardor, a guide through the
Dark night to crystal clarity.  
She will embrace life through art,
In all its pleasures and
All its tribulations!
The creator’s brush and palette will
Reveal the sinews of her subject’s
Aspirations.

In this way, her scars will heal.

IV.:  “This torrent of fertile flame…”

Her painter’s cunning is born of
Her heart’s passion and
Her body’s absolution.
With the naked canvass
Before her, she enters
Into a ferment of transfixed
Delirium,
Expectant and open to the
Daemon of inspiration.

The visions come and they roil,
As a litany of colors form her bible.
Mysterious music summons her toil
As she sways to rhythms tribal.
And lights!
And shadows…
And glancing,
Ghostly figures
Come into view.
Her ecstasy foments
In unbridled explorations
Of contour,
Layered chaos,
With juxtaposed
Shape and hue.
In that precarious moment of creativity,
She is spiked between two poles.
Shedding sparks in raw conductivity,
She loosens her grip on the controls.
Her muse liquefies
Into a river of
Scalding fecundity and
Kinetic energy, thick with
Spiritual potency!  

This torrent of fertile flame
Consumes the past, the deception,
The self-denial and the shame.
All the murky dross of doubt is purged
Until purity is all that remains.…

Pure presence,
Pure focus;
A quiet core of calm
Within the storm, surrounded by
The hurling, unruly universe.  

Finally, she arrives at a place
Out of time and space,
Beyond her desert of pain.
She is self-aware and ready
To look ahead,
Unafraid.

The hush of eternity
whispers
in the air over our home;
its celestial spangles
bless the darkened hills
with a glimmering dance.
Above us all
is silent,
cool,
and placid,
while our hearts beat and
strive and shake
with hope and expectation!
Star light over our hearts:
forever distant,
forever desired,
forever distilled
inside us.

A sound ringing in my ears
Alarms raging in my soul
Fire running through my veins
Night burning black as coal

The truth within I fear  
A change I can’t see clear
Many years have past
But the memories remain…

Her tears smeared on my hands
A fate this curse foretold
All my lies have revealed
The way my soul was sold

The white eyes of the sky
Peer down into my mind
Many years have past
But these memories remain…

A time to return, to heal these wounds
To find my free will, a new path to choose

The Earth shifts at the core
No fate is set in stone
A purpose guides my course
The future is mine alone

The change that seemed unclear
Now stands in my view
It’s time to **** my fear
To fly the miles back to you

A time to return, to heal your wounds
To find my free will, a new path to you.
The tides they will rise, by the light of the moon    
Travel over miles, to get closer to true.  

A time to return, to heal these wounds
To find my free will, a new path to you.

As the transient day slips by,
We work for our food and shelter.
We busy ourselves with toil
In a sultry, oppresive swelter.
This is the way of things, of course,
As we seek to survive the world’s hardships.
But we must not lose hope, so we keep words
Of encouragement on our lips.

But the day wanders late,
And we must prepare for
The perilous darkness…

Looking up, we saw the day’s diadem
Dropping and dwindling
Into an expanding distance.
A widening waste spreads,
Swallowing our hope and
Threatening our existence.
We kneeled to pray for protection
During this cold gloom of catharsis.
It seemed a ghostly mist approached,
As if from ancient Tarsus.

Suddenly, the warming orb shatters
Against the horizon,
Exploding with resplendent rubies,
Flying out from the surface!
Before this crystalline spectacle we are transfixed,
As our hearts discover a renewed purpose.

This shimmering treasure
Was then drawn up,
As the night’s shade descended,
To stand as a symbol
Of an eternal hope,
Just as God Intended.
To fill the sky with wonderful lights,
Creating a crown Of destiny.
We beheld its glory,
Within and without,
As our fears were transformed
Into ecstasy!

In that moment, we cried out,
“Come, O' Night! We reflect your beauty!
In this darkened aura,
We feel the embrace of an Arcadian love!
Night! Portent of our death and
Harbinger of our illumination,
We are kin with the stars!
We are citizens of the heavens above!”

Eclipse of solar source,
Shadow on the sun.
Change from shine to
Dark doesn't frighten me;
I look at the world to realize
Those are part of the same one.

I desire your lips in all unruly abandon.
I hunger for the nectar on your tongue.
I burn for the fire of our transfigured union.
I see the shimmer of your eyes
And hear the sound of our song, as yet unsung.
Lover...tear me apart.
I am your next victim.
You are my unbridled obsession.
You are my wanton *****.

A near lifetime spent
Separately,
Struggling in the outer gloom,
Blind to the direction of our
Stars.

We were as two poles pointing
Out to divergent destinies,
Yet somewhere
Joined,
Crossed,
Connected by a thread of
Healing innocence.
Our graced past grafted into
Our pressing, every day
Present.

It would be many rotations before
Our paths converged again,
As space folded back onto itself;
Points in the sky measured by
Blue shift velocities.

Light was now coming back to us with
Sparks sent in spontaneous
Expression.
Our lives beaming
Possibilities and common purpose,
Responding to an
Archetype in the merging
Of night and light.

There but for a moment,
Ourselves in silent symmetry,
Cradled together
In a fraught darkness;
A darkness familiar but
Finally changed --
For it did not pass in stoic solitude, but
In a kind of shared striving.

But this charged darkness had a
Lover in light, through the window of night,
Carried by a forest breeze.
A heavenly radiance,
Spread out and lingering
In the cool air of our mountain wilderness.
Luminous and palpable as a
Seraph in our midst.
This light caressed and blessed
The human unity between us.

This sparkle of time lived
In the pure embrace of
Requited longing.

We found ourselves together, completed,
Strengthened in mutual support.
Separate poles in this
Close space.
Sensually spherical ---  
A new world spinning on a strange axis,
Turning in the moon light,
Coursing through a universe of our own divining.

We were present in a plane where
Dark and light, cool and warmth,
Silence and expression,
Time and eternity, here and there,
Familiar and singular,
Spirit and body were married, fused in joy,
Dancing in delight, singing and laughing and
Speaking words in soul sound,
Exultant.

There, in that same close space,
We were revealed in the tender pleasures of love and
In the hot tears of compassion and regret.

Finally changed,
Finally crossed and
Finally blessed,  
We were finally together
In that dark wilderness;

Between mountain and sky,
Under moon and heaven light.

Shining.

I.
She moves like life from water!
She springs forth like the bubbling brook,
Splashing free, cool and joyful!
From above she comes, falling from
The grace of the Creator, Mother to Maiden,
From HER to here!

From the lonely droplet,
Clear and oval,
To the lovely rain,
Drenching in elemental purity,
She embodies a universe
Of vanishing, transparent organisms --
All busy like minute motors.
This infinitesimal society of her new self is,
At once, chaotic and harmonic,
Vast in its plenitude
But invisible to entities above.
This is her world within worlds (a cyclical vortex),
Whirling free and purposeful,
Gyrating and making
Things happen!

She grows through her years to the placid pond:
She is calm and open in support of the swimming,
Leaping, floating, flying, green, yellow,
Brown, red, violet, fragrant, sweet and earthy
Communities who have befriended her ---
We surround her, humming our odes maternal.

She evolves to the raging river and plummeting falls;
A being of turbulence --
Rushing, plunging
And exploding into the air!
Submersed within, she sculpts a sharp edge
Of wit and cunning; subsumed inside the surging flood,
She shapes smooth circulars,
The stones of her ideals, hard-won,
Perfected for her slingshot battle-cry!
Her watery voice is now a full-throated roar,
Haughty, rebellious and self-possessed!
With it, she will stand against and subdue the giants
Who dare to constrain her purpose or deny her worth!
Still, the sonar of her soul also emits waves
More limpid:
The lyrical, ripple-pulse of the river,
Melodically mingled
With the shifting sunbeam and the wafting breeze.

There are sensual silences of unspoken longing
That spill, slip and spin upon quieter currents.
She emerges with all these energies…
Our homes may drift asleep in her care.
We move and live over her wet,
Strong, sultry shoulders.
She carries us through our lives.

Her destiny is, finally, joined to Mother Ocean.
Vast. Powerful. Earth-embracing.
She lets go of doubt as she is drawn into it –
Undeniable, unrelenting, untamed.
Caught in the undertow of desire, of
****** rapture, her tinder temple trembles.
She is lost in a clinging, clutching chaos, quaking
From the erogenous flesh and *** of her source.
All of her essence dissolves into a spherical suffusing;
A filling and expanding need.
Deeper…
Darker -- a sounding blue inside her.
The leviathan of lust descends, arriving at a level
Teaming in mysteries.
Here, there are a myriad of eyes searching
In the hot marrow within.  
Above, the thunder, wind and riptide wave;
Below…the deathly, serious
Silence that reveals the primordial
Drone of the universe –
The vibration of the heart of God --
In the midst of all things known or merely intuited.
Wisdom uttered in a language we hear, we understand,
But we fear to speak…
Yet, in a twinkling of the eye, sometime further ahead,
Above the storm,
We will know,
Speak from our hearts,
And be safe, in her fathomless arms.  

II.
The Man: He is a volcano.
He is pure earth, he is unruly fire-lathe.
He is stone, he is air, and he is the gravity
Which girds the foundation.
He is a destroyer and
He is the
New creation at dawn –
Cooled off, enriched, and potent.
He lifts up the trees, the grass, the rose, the shrub.
The birthing and nurturing soil forms around his feet.
Yet rippling amidst the inflorescence and saplings bubbles
A stream or a spring. Her presence is like diamonds, like pearls
In the rich rough -- glinting, splashing and playing in his garden!
He is the green mountain;
He is the red fire within it.
He explodes, in a blinding white,
Causing the new world,
In all its iridescence, to arise!

Woman and the water.
Man and the fire.
Together we are the world, entire.
Our home. Our journey. Our destiny.

Ourselves.

I.
The black ruin exploded
on that cold night,
A drenching rain hid a peril,
unseen.
With lighting strikes
a thunderous white,
we drove in that hour late,
lost and wandering.
The dark road
stretched like a tight rope,
with twisted, wooded boughs
cloaked around.  
We searched the thick shadows
and kept hope,
but chaos is all we found.
Praying for safe passage,
clutching the wheel in fear,  
clinging to the way forward,
but the way was still unclear…
Suddenly
the elements flashed a
dagger of jagged disaster --  
we veered violently,
with vertiginous swerve and swallow.
sheer horror revealed
a visage, eviscerated –
eyes of deep pitch
and bone, hollow.  
Broke and black marrow, portends
no tomorrow;
shattering glass,
splintering wood,
shredding tires,
spilling blood.
Both of us cast into crushing trauma.
…I faded into a murk of the mind,
of Stygian sentience,
slipping beyond, resigned…

II.
Emerging back from a
wild twilight,
where I lingered,
drifting in a diffuse dusk
of a subconscious
dream…
with a flood
of shock sensations!
I awoke to a world of
twisted metal and wicked pain,
extreme.
…“This is really happening?!”
flashed across my mind,
as I struggled to free myself from
the maw of debris.
I could not tell the time or location
of place or friend, but there came
flashing lights and helpful
souls, rushing to attend.
In and out of temporal existence,
my eyes dreary --
heart beat shallow,
impressions of
people and rooms
were bleary.
Numb in my safety,
skating on the surface of an
induced calm, I thought,
“I am in their care.  I can only let go and
let someone else steer.”  
But I waver to explore
the depths of the well
in which I fell;
I can’t yet grasp what transpired,
and I recoil from the traps --
I resist,
I deny,
I withdraw,
I collapse.  

III.
The wet, dark, twisted
walls rise,
reaching high
and ringed around.
she sheltering shock
subsides, and in this
well of pain I drown.
It was only after many hours,
from the moment of
impact,
the difficult work
finally began.
To try to come to terms with
the meaning of this hard fact,
to wash the fear from my heart
and the blood from my hands.
With bracing clarity
I realized
how close to death
I had wandered.
All that my life stood for
and meant was crystallized,
and yet
there was so much weakness
and Fear I had not
conquered.
…And the tears rained down,
drenching my face…
I reeled in despair, clutching
in anguish at the reality,
my mind was white
with grief.
My short life had conceived no honor,
no art,
no lasting vitality!
A legacy of wisdom and
love was imperiled,
nearly stolen by that
phantasmal and cloaked thief.  

IV.
Reaching out through the tears,
calling on my savior for help,
I cried out for a way through
the shadow, clinging to
a hope.
Through the blur
of hot sadness came
a human face, with eyes
sending love, healing, empathy, and care…
Her voice and presence was
as an angel from above.
Her tender heart
struck like a thunderbolt
of compassion.  
I was instantly drawn out
from the deathly well,
and the darkness was
dissolved;
I was saved from Hell.  
this Motherly embrace
came and whispered soft
words of consolation,
as she held my soul aloft.  
I felt my hope
returning, I saw my
life revived.
This dawn,
I was thankful that
from black ruin
I survived.

"The world is WIDE and I travel it!
The world has a secret and I SEEK it!”,
Said I, as I sailed off one day
To follow tales of distant shores,
With untrammeled frontiers,
****** and pure!

Yielding to the demand of my disquieted soul,
“Voyage!” she cried, and I set upon my goal:
To stretch forth the extremities of my
Ambition -- to penetrate
The veil of all unknowing;
To heed to the heady lure
Of discovery,
Carried by the west wind, blowing!
The path I run will cost me years, and
I must try to go the distance.
But this is a longing for life undiluted,
Quaffed deep and savored
As a Barolo vintage,
Noble and intense.

Maps of her forbidding hinterlands were
Vouchsafed by Mariner Kings of ancient days.
I consulted the coded charts for clues, and
Configured the gilded astrolabe.
Obsession ruled my motives as I
Poured over sea-faring strategies.
The sagacious scrolls became a cypher,
Whispering exotic rumors
Of pleasures and possessions,
Steeped in rich antiquities.

My fertile mind was seized
By these boundless visions,
As the time came for our enterprise.
I shouted to my stalwart company,
“The road forward will not be forgiving,
But the rewards gained will outrageous fortune comprise!”

Our quest divided the latitudes as a
Scimitar separates flesh from bone.
My ship slashed the longitudes as we
Sought passage far from home.
My desire encircled her sensuous shape,
For she is a mistress, supple and warm.
This journey provided the means of escape, for
From the Tome of Glory these pages were torn!

Hence, joyously exulting, I made clear my claim,
“Wisdom is a treasure divine!
Adventure is the blood inflamed!”

My mad dream was unleashed and
I will always remember the day.
I was free to sail my heart’s tidal-course,
Venturing forth, far and away!

Upon his easel a half-finished work,
The secret labor of his studio,
Said from the canvas, so that none might err,
‘I am the Countess Laura.’ Carlo kneeled,
And gazed upon the picture; as if thus,
Through those clear eyes, he saw the way to
Heaven.
Then he arose; and as a swimmer comes
Forth from the waves, he shook his locks aside,
Emerging from his dream, and standing firm
Upon a purpose with his sovereign will.
He took his palette, murmuring, ‘Not yet!’
Confidingly and softly to the corpse,
And as the veriest drudge, who plies his art
Against his fancy, he addressed himself
With stolid resolution to his task,
Turning his vision on his memory,
And shutting out the present, till the dead,
The gilded pall, the lights, the pacing guard,
And all the meaning of that solemn scene
Became as nothing, and creative Art
Resolved the whole to chaos, and reformed
The elements according to her law:
So Carlo wrought, as though his eye and hand
Were Heaven’s unconscious instruments, and
Worked
The settled purpose of Omnipotence,
And it was wondrous how the red, the white,
The ochre, and the umber, and the blue,
From mottled blotches, hazy and opaque,
Grew into rounded forms and sensuous lines;
How just beneath the lucid skin the blood
Glimmered with warmth; the scarlet lips apart
Bloomed with the moisture of the dews of life;
How the light glittered through and underneath
The golden tresses, and the deep, soft eyes
Became intelligent with conscious thought,
And somewhat troubled underneath the arch
Of eyebrows but a little too intense
For perfect beauty; how the pose and poise
Of the lithe figure on its tiny foot
Suggested life just ceased from motion; so
That any one might cry, in marveling joy,
‘That creature lives, -- has senses, mind, a soul
To win God’s love or dare hell’s subtleties!’
The artist paused. The ratifying ‘Good!’
Trembled upon his lips. He saw no touch
To give or soften. ‘It is done,’ he cried, --
‘My task, my duty! Nothing now on earth
Can taunt me with a work left unfulfilled!’
The lofty flame, which bore him up so long,
Died in the ashes of humanity;
And the mere man rocked to and fro again
Upon the centre of his wavering heart.
He put aside his palette, as if thus
He stepped from sacred vestments, and assumed
A mortal function in the common world.

From white canvass,
a blank ledger of potent
expectation,
awaiting form and function.
The artist invokes
shade and light.
The seminal swirl of
her brush signals
simple hue,
discrete structures.
Then flesh strokes imbue
sanguine blush of
satin seams
and outstretched limbs;
spring greens and rampant peaks,
reaching high into
gossamer nimbus. Calm swells,
abundant bosoms,
beckoning fields of luxuriant temptation.
From an eternal cool,
the (all too) temporary warmth
of her embrace
lies just beyond:
enticing, luring, teasing
into torrid desire.
From whence,
the dream
unfolds...

We are part earth,
part ethereal,
Spirit and blood infused.
Particles, points and waves
Entwine
and collide,
with energy imbued.
We are realized in
the sum and singularity
Of all that is.
There is no separation
between
The colossus
and the microscopic.
All of us are just variations
of an eternal theme.
We are material expressions of
a spiritual dream.
The dream of love,
the cause of hope,
the heart of God.

It is when you decide to leave the shoreline behind and set out upon the waves and the wild deep...that is the moment when your spark shines and your path ascends. From this start, the spirit seeks her destiny. So, find the path less taken; travel amidst your fears and take heart; see with eyes wider and soul wilder...the mountain peak looms, there! Be the fire fed by its lofty air.

Journeys rendered dateless,
Unending,
Wayward and extending out,
Round the compass points --
Dizzying aspiration to cease this race,
To slow my sprinting soul,
This pace splintering, in exhaustion.

Expiring breath of hope or of home
Evaporated in a distance
Vanishing and
Disconnected.
Drifting
On trackless tides, across
Labyrinthine depths,
Within the vast heart
Of the world
I cannot run from.

Yet, I moved to and between
The center or its peripherals, in
Singular or collectives,
Seeking pattern and
Drawing connectives –-
Brushing by and
Bustling among
People
Entranced In their own
Objectives.

I watched their movements
And their exchanges,
I heard their rituals and
Invocations.
In all these transitions,
They have no inkling
That their seemingly trite
Lives merely manifest
The epic motifs of the heavens!

Our imaginations mirror
The vitality of the gods!
We are as immortal as they!
Our simple, sensual stories
Are also enduring legends
Unfolding,
As our pages turn,
Our flags are unfurling!

Just as our fellow
Olympians of old
Engaged in a marathon of
Endeavor to heights
Unimagined!
From those mystic days
Since Orpheus’ ardent lyre
Sang notes
Of Nature’s divinity, Her
Eternal sweetness.

We need only sense that
It is in Nature’s essence
We are sharing.
With her, we are joined in
An undying marriage,
A unified pairing –
Our human heritage,
Our dignified bearing.

We share in that song,  
We share in that sweetness,
We share in that race,
We share in Her immanence.

This journey is our own.

It goes on, unending!

In the ancient ages of our story,
Long lost on the storm-tossed sea of time,
Mystics, Shamen, Seers, Poets, and Prophets
Pointed to paths leading to survival,
Vital roads for our guides to find.
Lo, our progress came through
The purge of many perils.
In the grip of that troubled existence,
Our visionaries found the way forth
From a plague of deadly terrors.

Born out of the feverish tumult of the mystic Wild-man
Or the symbolic song of a Tribal Priestess,
Came words of hope and vision.
Their inner-light was a primordial premonition, stoking
The courage to make our daunting decisions.
Their mind’s eye pierced the veil, striking
Lightning catalysts into a forest of fascination,
To ignite the strength we must bring to fruition!

We clung to their words as we clung to each other,
And heard their call to mission.
We allowed the signs of their ecstasy to gestate
Within our souls; words woven into myths
To bear the fruit of immortal imagination!
Out of this flame came the hard-won wisdom of our people,
Our embryonic culture, and the seeds of our salvation.

We traveled on in the grip of a darkened world and
Survived together, confirmed by a shared oath.
The tree of humanity’s fragile hope must take root,
To fulfill its future growth.

We are an Ark-people, a covenant people,
A people of deep foundations.
We take that light, that fire, and
That power into our destiny,
Striking wild and true within!

May the ineffable Creator bless our steps,
Secure our path, inspire our faith,
And anoint our hearts for the road ahead,
Beyond…

M-a-s-q-u-e.

Me.

Mask. Me.

Ask me, see me; look within…
Past my mask,
Past my scars,
Past my fears,
Past my charms,
Past my ugly weakness,
Down to the soul and
The soil of my sin.

Yes, I hide here but I will also
Reveal the real, in me.
Behind this shield,
I stay closed
But the door of my
Face tells more,
For those who can see.

Clearly, I am a clown.
That is plainly shown.
But beware:
I am also a bringer of truth --
My truth -- and my beliefs
Are born from deep in the bone.
I stand in defense of my voice
Like a soldier behind the wire.
I bring my armor for the war:
My heart, my hope,
my humanity,
my burning inner fire!

I bring a desperate spirit of courage
And uncompromising desire.
With this act, I will change the way things are!

Though I wear a disguise,
I will enter the theater and
Take my place
On stage.

I will perform my story --
The tale of a tragic martyr -- and
Give expression to my rage.

I will wear the mask,
Secure the armor,
And raise the shield.
I offer to the world the
Chain-mail of my flesh,
My tarnished soul,
My battered bones and
Bronzed heart, concealed.

From this stage,
I will show my scars,
I will engage the enemy.
I will **** my fear.

My mask tells so much,
For those who can hear.

The season’s haughty train
Trails behind, decadent,
Pretending.
Unrelenting trials
Have gone by and
Are now most mercifully
Ending.
The jaundiced jewel fixed
At noon's height had
Shown its light too glaring,
Its blinding core
Creating warmth too wearing.
That languorous season,
An oppressive array,
Which over-weights our shape;
We were low and bowing but
With no trace of fealty, no
Chance of escape.

Long
Have these searing hours
Draped us in a sweaty quilt.
Time like a heavy cloak,
Days like the burden of guilt.
Summer’s scorn spit out as
Stabbing taunts and a
Savage lash of indictment.
We were exposed to its unblinking,
Unforgiving regard,
Its cruel cast
Driving all to mad
Incitement.

Now, slowly…
How silently,
So kindly,
The atmosphere shifts,
Swirling the lightness
Of graceful leaves,
Blending into a lifting wave
With soft whispers of a new day.
The night clears to hear our
Secluded prayers, spoken in shade.
Sleep drifts ghostly,
Our drunken slumber, in
Chambers blackened.
But the sober morning
Welcomes us calmly,
Quietly, like a forgiving friend.

Suddenly, a gracious change brings
The soul’s cool rebirth!
The dome above us
Deepens its complexion, from
Raging red to azure mirth;
The choking white smoke,
A miasma of grim gas,
Melts away and
Yields to cheering
Hearth fires!
Sparks stirring ambient hopes
Of familial bonds.
Familiar sensations fill
The empty places with
The forgotten mists of home!

A fleeting presence draws near,
Extending an invitation to a peace
That is eternal, and
Offered forever freely:
Dreams and revelations awaken --
Recalled as a mother’s love,
Or a child’s laughter, pealing!  
This refreshing phase brings
Enchantment in thoughts of home;
The source of all our growing,
With often vexed comings and goings.
A place I left so long ago,
So far out of the
Reach of my heart, still roaming.

Sage, solemn autumn,
That itinerant interval,
Arrives
As a pilgrim, bearing simple treasures;
Tokens to trade from our past
We feared were sure sorely lost –
Nevermore to be embraced.

With this goodly turn of fate,
Many precious things
Are gladly recovered,
Given with warm hands, lifted
Up in a seasonal thanks.
With autumn spirits
Wafting up,
Swirling around our hearts,
Eternal,
To the chilled, open sky.

She stands
In an empty field, facing east,
Her solitary shadow growing long.

Around her is this peaceful place, silent;
Only wind against her face,
Drifting across The plains.

Then a chill brushes past her cheek…

She feels
This presence in her spine and
She stiffens.  

It is just a current of the season,
Mingled with the late sun on her shoulder;
But the warmth and the cold sometimes conflict.  

…..The chill reminds her of his absence….  

This place is quiet, only a whisper.  

She hears
The pulse of her blood quicken,
Its course inside her thickens.  

The atmosphere shifts,
Eyes widen, as she faces the horizon.  
She is set like flint before a restless world.

Her wide blue eyes water, her heart
Pounding in strained desire.  

This steady, steeled daughter of America
Longs to cast a strong line of her love,
To the rock of her life,

Across the storming sea, so far away…
To that place of horrified warriors:
Shrieking shrapnel shreds obliterated oblivion.
The air trembles as the shock wave rips the ether,
Violently rent asunder.  
Littered remains rotting in the midst of the fury;
Good men reduced to the ragged riot of raw fear.
Gaunt, ravenous Death commands the field of battle as the machines of War rumble on, so far away….

She struggles
To join her failing courage with his
Torch-tested bravery – and to go the
Distance.  

If she could pull him out of that turbulent tide, cast him her line.
To rescue him from the gaping grasp of Danger.  
To see him home from his struggle, soothing his scars,
Calming the calamity in his ears and to steady his heart.

To make them whole again,
Together in this peaceful place.

But now the gears of history are churning
More human fodder between its wheels,
Withering wreckage in its wake.  
So many lost in that foreign land, all
Split apart at the atoms.

All fallen Adams.  Paradise lost…  
And yet, still (and silently) found, for these
Fallen defenders. As they depart,
Leaving this lost and hopeless place…

Drifting towards a distant field of
Sun-kissed wheat, now fields of lush
Green harmony in bird song,
Bees buzzing, and mild breezes.
Fertile plains stretching and
Flowing hills rolling into the azure distance
Of never ending creation,
All mingled in light,
unspoiled by the conflict of the world
Left behind.  

For there is no conflict, now,
In these currents of the season –
Between the warmth and the cold...
Brushing past her tear-dappled cheek.

The animal spirit she possesses,
An agile anima stalking a dark spark within,
Looms as predator and protector.
This hunter-rogue guide
Glides through her Soulscape,
Revealed as moon illumined mountain forest,
A place of winter-refracted
Ethereality and lurking danger.
In this dusky, deceptive ambiance,
She has access to a primordial instinct –
Archetypal symbols, ancient signs –
At once savage and wise.
Finding herself in this
Wilderness of vulnerability,
She girds for battle.
Staring squarely into the dark,
Duplicitous and cruel face
Of her adversary, she prepares.
She finds the strength to see
What are lies and
What are the truths --
Both are found there
In that pitched, lacerated visage.

Like all warriors across
Time immemorial,
She embraces her pain,
Exercising control over it.
Absorbing the jagged,
Razor’d contours,
She sees
In its elements
The space where the
“Other” ends
And where she begins;
How she was made
A flint against which
He sharpened his cutlass
And where she
Has made of herself
The door through which he entered.

From this core radiance
Comes a rapier will to survive,
The strength to guard her kin,
The keen intelligence
To unleash her primal howl,
And the blood-fire to rule her demons.

If you seek her truth,
beneath all her complexity,
look into her eyes,
to her splendid Self within.
Look with honesty,
to know her for who she is --
but go lightly to her dark spaces;
you may enter only
with humility and tender
trepidation.
For, she keeps precious
a pearl of great worth!
Her pearl is as an ivory column
in the court of Heaven, but also
as fragile as a bird's egg.
So, with care, if you please:
gaze upon her as a translucent
jewel, refined and glittering
like the star-draped canopy of
the desert night.
Handle her heart so
as to set her free,
to lift it up to flight,
where her wings stretch
towards the limitless sky!
Seek her truth, embrace her soul,
treasure her jewels, and guard her
pearl.
These truly are riches beyond
price and the highest calling
of a Prince!

Our history,
flash in recall,
almost chimera like,
must be slowed,
must be captured,
frozen.
Words, my dear...
your words;
my memory of your mouth,
your wet eyes and
your hot words
must be written down.
I will never forget, as long as I live,
our history.
Our book is the heart...
consumed in fire
and shared.
We will turn
into light,
into ash,
then to air.