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I am no artist, but
were I to sketch
the hydrangea dying
on the dining room table,
I would want to capture
how the room just brightened,
sunlight filling the windows,
illuminating the flowers
as they move without
moving even closer
to a final decomposing.
 Sep 2018 Miracle Beyond Me
Onoma
how to

quantify

crucifixion...

blood sells

itself.

you're so

good for it.
 Sep 2018 Miracle Beyond Me
Onoma
trying to breathe

by an open window.

not for lack of air...

but the crushing astonishment

of knowing what i don't

know.

it's all there --like this pallid

light bent by rain.

with the substantial assurance

of a current event...whose

deliverance comes by mere fact

of being manifest.

though is this premeasured

rainfall any realer than this

Tuesday?

is Wednesday getting ready

for duty--clad in a considerably

dryer forecast?

i don't know.

a window's

an-open-and shut case.
 Sep 2018 Miracle Beyond Me
r
Tonight Hunraqan
roams the night
lifting the shroud
of dark clouds
so the moon can peek
down  on my long dreams
of water, and the mystery
of sleep; I am tranquil
one eye open, thankful
for the respite of brief light
while somewhere a plank
floats east to the Atlantic
carrying a forgotten book
of the K'iche' Maya language
with my name inscribed
just inside, I sigh, oh why
heart of my sky, why?
Wikipedia:  Huracan[1] (/ˈhʊrəkən, ˈhʊrəˌkɑːn/; Spanish: Huracán; Mayan languages: Hunraqan, "one legged"), often referred to as U K'ux Kaj, the "Heart of Sky",[2] is a K'iche' Maya god of wind, storm, fire and one of the creator deities who participated in all three attempts at creating humanity.[3] He also caused the Great Flood after the second generation of humans angered the gods. He supposedly lived in the windy mists above the floodwaters and repeatedly invoked "earth" until land came up from the seas.*
love like we did
cavern toes to nose
bury me where

we sleep

move on again
you must keep moving
bury me with my single bead

bone I save from my lost child
if this one dies first,  then
bury us together

not in death season
not worth it, not well
if you can, I know you

you will bury me in long grass
like fingertips licking at fire
you will place me just so

so that I will move on
next plain of understanding
hope, love, anointed with right

oils, please take this sad body
bury me with my lone bead
never forget how we loved

life
 Aug 2018 Miracle Beyond Me
Onoma
as nature herself would, you

sit at your power spot open

as a birthing womb.

you float out of yourself and

witness from above.

that precious little girl handing

it over to that immeasurably

beautiful woman.

birds are dying to land on you,

but scare at the last moment

as you adjust your position...

on what the future may hold.

in the throes of an empath's

kriyas, you spill the cup so the

earth may drink.

the petals of your consideration

can cut a diamond's...reflection,

refraction and dispersion.

that ennobled kingdom that dances

around you, an aura someone of

like aura is fusing with.
 Aug 2018 Miracle Beyond Me
L B
This woman I know
quite the old hippie
gave me this lovely gift

A softened silk and denim dress
Folded loosely
just handed to me, unwrapped
(We felt the same about the waste of paper)
“This is for you.”
Opening it, I saw its gentle gathers from the shoulders
almost elegant, its drape
and the rough
but soft and dark of it
Real indigo dye
with silk laces from bust to waist

...then the tiny stitching...
NO!
Not by machine!
Knew the labor was – intensive
Every edge
was finished, sewn
by her caring hand!

"Oh, lady of my dream

whom I do not know
I THANK YOU!
From my soul"
I would have made this in another life –
time
of hope and longing

And then I saw that seam!
along the side
that wasn't... really...
just those thicker threads
a silk macrame
of knotted net
so –  bold
to hold that one inch open
to hint at nothing –
and everything –
in between

“Oh hell! Oh ****!
Does it come with an occasion??!!”
She smiled
somewhere between shy and sly
You get them when I get them.  This from a month ago.
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