Oak and Elm and Redbud trees
stand stark against winter sky
long ago shed their leaves
their bony fingers reach high.

Waiting patiently for warm days
they tend their souls in soil
they teach us a hundred ways
to dig deep for spirit oil.

Winter’s a time to dwell inside
look in dark corners there
for what we’d rather hide
invite it up for a bit of fresh air.

i’m drowning in the fluorescent lights of the daily
my routine is wearing me down
i long for the spontaneity of the past
the sunlit warmth of summer days uncorrupted by a schedule

the rut of the day-to-day is killing me
from within my bones i can feel it
it's seeping out, poisoning each moment
am i alone? does anyone else feel it?

inside me there is
a red piece
and a blue piece

the red protects me like
a wildfire
but it burns and destroys the beauty around me

the blue grounds me like
a puddle of water
but it’s heavy when it pulls me under

i am water
i am fire
and i am constantly drowning and scorching

from inside out
my blues and reds
are labeled by others as crazy

She stands at the edge of a forest with arms outstretched,
And her shadow mingles with the long shadows of firs on the snow.
She bends at a fire.
Beyond the cottage, faint in the crystalline night,
A wolf howls and is answered by another.
She brushes back her hair, comes to lie beside him on the bed of feathers.
She runs on the summer beach on the lake, and he believes that she is laughing.
He tries to go to her, but is held back.
She is standing on the edge of the lake, calling to him,
Calling his name with one hand beckoning, but when he tries to move toward her,
She fades into the mist.

There, in the
tide pool, dappled by
the sun, is birth and death,
and the spark that continues.
It leaves mankind in a wake of regret.
What have I to do with the albatross
Or sea lion?
I can but write, while they fly and roar.
I gaze upon the Pacific from this rock,
all its mysteries and grandeur.
I am inferior, while it forever reigns with
every wave and break of light.