on this rumbling
              stretch of tundra
                  no trees reach up
                     to soothe the sky
                     there is a pulling down
                  of wind tunnel vortex
               like conifers in reverse
          an icy howl
in the bonechill
               of time
Translucent holes,
         perfectly round, are dug
                in glacial archeology
                  and in the sea below
               gelid creatures lurk,
           half-frozen
         in the history of my
                                        soul
Only moss and lichens
grow on the rock,
somehow softening the
rugged textures
of the wild landscapes
that seethe
          just beneath my skin
and there, just
shy of the surface
is a quickening
a subtle pulse of veins
that pumps life
between the gales of
my heart's steppes
flushing out
           the pain
somewhere
deep
      within the private lotus
of my being
folioles unfurl
leafy shapes around
my organs
wrapping them like gifts
          as they undulate in whorls
opening my petals
in renewed consciousness
and deliberation
as a new kind of  
           stamen
                rises
    dusty pollen
powdery
budding ripeness
       bursting up
       and out
   of my deepest
       centered
whirlpool pistil
nectar dripping
in viscous webs,
to be caught upon
the tongue of
a new dawning
My silky outer
wings of vegetation,
slender stalks of
          filaments and anther
have been turned
into hot steel
They protect
    the tender vulnerable
                   when burned
as poison words held up to my
watchful eyes,
                   are properly discerned
I give myself over
to this new power,
my back arched to fully embrace
what is to come,
a universe calling thunder,
the old patterns undone
I am ready
to reveal my all
as the goddess deep within
comes to release my gold
suffusing light through skin
conjured from me
a relentless strength,
ever-growing,
                now tenfold
rising way past
soft-lit stratospheres
and orbiting
               to
                 bold

On the wheels, I whirl, I spin, I move
Clouds too whirl, then darkness spins
A lightning bolt, then the deafening sound,
Then it pours,
N the fire flies go dim
I dont amble, I dont whisk
Opening my hand, gawking above, I dont decline
Three winks! Drenched n detached from the me wrenching myself,
I wheel as  "The Lance Armstrong"

Heavy pours invite a stroll
Cats and Dogs pouring down dismay Rats, ROFL!
Oust as Prince Zuko, I stroll
Surrendering myself to  the Zephyr
Same trail but with ****** looks
Hypnotic green, drenched, raise me to the Oblivion
Shimmering in the distant are two dim lights
N I ***** like " The Supertramp"

Beginning of the ultimate inception, I touch
Extending my arms to the cries of sky
Dont know the destination of this alley
Trying to think what 'm anticipating
Though without any charge on my shoulders
Flickering in the near distant are two lights
I hike as " The Aron"

'm I tears, I dont know
Even the silence has sulked
Nothing's in my head
Green n Brown, Pink n Purple hues
Repose the folioles, within
Distant lights are passing by now
I stride as " The me"

To the Aisle,
where birds peep, cheep, chirp, quaver, tweet n warble
From the stroll to the stride
's a short walk of hues n blues
The fringes have passed by
Arena's clear n so 'm I.