Paragliding is a matter of maths.
You launch, fly, land, bash or crash.
How you meet the ground depends on maths.
Maths is key to survival.

Allowances for maths out of your control, will drive your fun.
Wind, heat, thermals and other pilots in the sky.
Unforgiving ground is gravity's final aim.
The wind will blow, thermals will lift, but gravity's maths will always win.

Your time in the air, and possibly life's end, will depend pilot error.
But gravity's maths doesn't care, he is all.
Gravity is annoyed with paragliders aiming at the ground with miss.
Gravity has calculated it's maths.

He spies those who fly forever, and wishes them on the ground.
With silence and invisibility, he draws those pilots in.
Some follow the maths and land with ease.
Some ignore the maths with peril.

Gravity's maths will always win.

Majestic eagles ride on thermals high
    above the river’s wooded shore:
white hooded monarchs of the sky.

Keen eyes survey the waters as they fly
    in quest of prey to taste or store.
Majestic eagles ride on thermals high.

Above the bluffs, their shadows multiply
    as each December dawn brings more
white hooded monarchs to the sky.

At winter’s end they’ll homeward fly
    to fish the river's northern corridor.
Majestic eagles ride on thermals high.

The eagle’s noble span and piercing cry
    are immortalized in native lore.
White hooded monarchs rule the sky!

Since on spirit wings I must rely
    I dream aloft where eagles soar
and glide with them on thermals high:
    white hooded monarchs of the sky.

*December, 2006

^¡^

/\^/\/\^^/\^^/\/\


like a wraith your smoke doth rise
into sulphur yellow skies
a fiery raptor... awesome sized
where the sultry brimstone lies.

from the ash... so grey and dry
erupting with a piercing cry
as volcanoes steam and sigh
dancing on the sparks you fly!

the devil mounts your back to ride
over molten rivers wide
his golden spurs dig in your side
on the thermals... up you glide!

then you turn and make a dive
into the flames
where you may thrive
born of fire you survive
you were dead...

but now ALIVE!!!


soulsurvivor
(c) 2014
rewritten
(c) 3-17-2015

Beast surfacing, the geyser blows
sea-spume that sudden, broaching, slows
to blue, then falls, no prim fountain
or ticking clock, Leviathan counting
decades at formal intervals.
On benches over rising thermals
that reach to roast us, faithful, waiting,
we cheer the act of hesitation
before the final curtain -- though, see,
the trick's just heat, just gravity.
Almost enough, I hear you say --
this tidal flame, this awe-filled day,
as mists dissolve and quick steam clears
and cools and sinks, for years, years.

Natalheme was on the balcony gazing up at the moons again. She always did this after talking to The One. And, as always, she was awestruck by their beauty. Perfect spheres of crystal, with a scintillating sheen due to the shield that surrounded her world. Three there were. The largest was ivory, the second aquamarine, and the smallest the color of Tourmaline lilac. This is the human equivalent of the shades. But these colors only the Seraphs could see. For they have a much broader spectrum of color to enjoy.

The child yawned, and stretched her graceful arms as if to grasp the one small moon, now the color of heather, as it was moving behind the largest ecru orb. She then looked out at her home planet. The balcony provided a spectacular view. In itself, the cantilevered balcony was a feat of engineering without par. Gracefully it perched on the side of Natalheme's home like a dove would place itself with spread wings upon an olive branch. It had a texture like mother of pearl, but with a subtle sparkle like marble. The child went on the tip of her toes to look over the edge of this edifice.

Her planet was the loveliest this universe can provide. Her people, the Seraphs, were created by The One just as we were, but their female could not be tempted by Evitamar (their name for Satan). Therefore, their world, and indeed the Seraphs themselves, never lost their original Glory. Enormous trees spread like umbrellas of emerald and turquoise. Some were the shade of peridot. Others had leaves that were molting, and were every shade of fire. A mist swirled up from the foliage beneath the gargantuan trees. Flowers of every color (and as I said, their spectrum was endless) and shape graced the garden beneath the shade of the beautiful trees. The Mist watered everything growing. It never rained on her world. Cathedral like crystals erupted here and there from the russet earth. Natalheme (pronounced nat-al-eh-may) could hear the azure ocean. The waves sang and sang...

Above her an enormous eagle-like raptor soared on the thermals provided by the Mist. It looked down on the child, it's eyes having the same natural frown as our species of bird. But its eyes were ruby blood. It had feathers the color of alabaster and amber, and were crystalline in nature.

All of the sudden it positioned itself to swoop... its body angled down and rushed toward her with blinding speed! Its talons extended like landing gear, and snatched the child up like she weighed as much as a cotton ball!

It hauled her into the air by her light tunic, took her miles above her planet... And proceeded to drop her!

She shrieked...

... with utter delight!



(To be continued)


SøułSurvivør
(C) 7/13/2017

Culture,
sits on my head like a vulture
pecking my brain,
I'm being driven insane,
horse and cart style and each peck is
a milestone.
The bones of my skull become null,
numb and void,destroying reality the
vulture of vanity
and I become the insanity
I see all around me.
If being crazy is madness
and madness is crazy,
then put me out of this misery,
won't someone erase me?

Patience
(no one noticed)
hardly moves its wings
Playing the atmosphere's
instrument
Poetry
Plying
well-known
Instincts....
Sensing lift of thermals
curling physics
with feather tips
Hanging
motionless
effortless
in love...

...its own
dynamic
unaware

Precursor of imagined--
tracing wind
taming flight
suspending  
beauty

Soaring
in the failing words of winter

Slaying
energy
in disbelief of air

When the early morning turns to bite the night
and the light arrives
like half lit candles dropping from the wakening sky
and the eagles stretch their wings to fly,
I
know why I look in wonder at this wonder that I see
and wonder at the wonder that you are, as you stir slightly
holding tightly on to me.

There is breakfast to come
I have errands to run
but each day I live under your sun
I will rise with the light that spills from these enlightened eyes
and see
each morning a new surprise
in store for me.

I love watching swallows
Gyrating and playfully swirls;
Mingle above over the river
Forming in a malee a ball.
Swiftly riding the thermals
Scooping the swelling water.
They shriek wheeling freely
Like boisterous little girls.

I came to see the lively acrobatics
In graceful motion of symmetry.
See enormous body of water flow
Pour itself into it's wide open mouth.
Slowly eroding shaping contours
And lives living along it's banks.
Constantly foreboding danger
And yet beauty and the mighty
Together in harmonious chemistry.

There I was many hours
In thought. What do I ever get?
At the jetty by the imperious
River where until dark I will be.
Time spent the opportunities
Passing by I have no regrets.
I'm like a ship from harbour
To harbour of a predestined life
With cargoes of worthless experience
Till I rot at the bottom of the sea.

Laboriously river meander and flow
Agile wings twist and turn in the air
With invisible brush of arcs and lines
With a vast sky as an open canvas.
The two characters, elements
Of nature, demonstrate their part;
In the theater of strength and grace.
While I am but a nameless intruder
Grateful of the kindness forever last.

Gannet sky-scraping span,
Dwelling of reaching thought,
Rarefied storm port soar,
Beautiful lucidity rejoice,
Happiness cranium thunder,
Solitary crest breaker undone,
Violet light outdare,
Oval control upturn,
Approval alternative liberate,
Congenial void embrace.

If Charlie Parker
Could hang his hopes
That someone
In some lost corner of history
Could blow a soaring reunion
With birdland fingers
Tremble dancing in flock

Then in this sapphire of an evening
His old ghost
Is pushing thermals for
These wings of notes to wander in
As they search for some secret progression  
That unlocks the amber stairway
To the burgundy heaven of jazz
Drink long enough and swint your eyes  
And you might almost mistake the
Stage lights for halos

This was a resurrection in B flat
That curved its broken body into the great throat of god
And begged us to come drink deep
From the red wine redemption of his voice
What else could we do but fill our glasses
And sip our way into sainthood
Off the liquid sound of heavens saxophone

It takes them all and the taller
you are
makes no odds,
fall gently,
for now,
the day is done.

There is sadness when old friends pass away,
a tear or two in my eyes and the wish they could stay.

In the midst of this two loving friends kiss
goodbye.

But it's only au revoir
for as far as I know
wherever it is where friends go when they go
it is just a short skip away,
a sailboat on a grey day heading
for the Sun.

We sit in tightly crafted boxes by day
forcing our feral souls to be still.

When we leave our daytime offices
for larger, comfier coffins,
the same spirit we once stifled
rips off its chains of productivity
in favor of a rarefied air full of possibility.

As we soar without any pretension of advancement
we forget that other life that appears with an overly punctual sun.

Through no fault of their own, we fault these day to day doldrums
through bleary red eyes while the true culprit of freedom
waits amongst the thermals until the night breaths anew.

They crest the white foam in perfect formation,
With purpose and strength they flap as they glide,
Fixated ahead in assured navigation,
Each trailing the other with nowhere to hide.

Then all of a sudden with no clear command,
They veer on some path and head for the sky,
Soaring the waves like a mischievous band,
Riding the thermals with a predatory eye.

No longer a pod but single torpedoes,
Spotting their quarry they launch with intent,
Diving at speed like rapacious mosquitoes,
To feast on that glimmering shoal now hell bent.

Again and again they dive to then surface,
Their sacks full of loot hidden from sight.
Transfixing, majestic, nature's true circus,
The curtain then falling as they once more take flight.

Florida's Pelicans, a marvelous sight,
Gregarious and cheeky with us so entwined,
Once hunted and culled as merely a blight,
Now in our hearts so fully enshrined.

Breathe Steady 10.29.20
go forth then, unto God and his Glory, abounding and rejoicing in the power and peace of that holy dwelling place.
abide, therefore, forever in the Love and in the Light.
-sayeth  the channelings, sayeth the distorted mask,
sayeth that through which sound passes.-

sons and daughters of the Earth who bathe in the waters
drawn of love/light/wisdom in the bathhouse of
the higher densities and inner planes.
Bath waters of golden white light, brilliant in a
radial pouring forth of tangible understanding and freewill.
scarcely can such energy be described in so
cumbersome a language, charming as it endeavors to be.
underwhelming must the emotions evoked be
in comparison with the All Glory of experience of
that which is spoken of.
the death ****** of the fire-bird serves as its own
inoculum and womb; two ends of a terminus
in polarity.

I activate in order to combine,
dwindling dread.
I seal the upswing of trans-dimensional laughter,
with the everyday tone of exodus.
I am guided by the advent of thermals.
-I am a solar riptide, surf me-

and then time slowed way down.
the semi trucks were like great sea mammals with
their whale calls and slow passage by the flanks.
“Who are you?”
“I am the Kalachakra.”
“Did you hear that?” (hushed tones, hands cover the phone.)
I was quite close to the illusion of Death.
The opaque specter, shaking and rumbling the very
fabric of the matrix about me.
wavering not within the sinkhole of indifference lest my terror turn manifest.
I’ve risen from a pillar of salt,
I’ll rise from the embers next.

i hear the cranes again
riding the thermals upward
this warming morning
calling and circling, they
fall into the long v shape
an arrow swiftly northbound

You like all the others
Was moth minded
Searching for flames
To incinerate the wick between your legs,
But I was more Aurora
Than bonfire,
And though you tried to slip yourself
Between these shimmering curtains
My window was softly opened as you slept
And I had slipped away before dawns fingers ever stroked your face awake.

For you see that I will no long burn
Down the forest to chase you from their depths.
Instead I will unfold myself as an orchid  
In the swamp of your misplaced memories
And let you creep though the man eating mangroves
To pluck my waiting grin

You see there are fields of tongues
Waiting for lips to ****** them
But they are all speaking in thrusts and moans,
In hidden glances and the unbearable weight of seductions
Below the belly of a girl whose gasps are unseen serenades  
In the rolling flush of night

We lock our hands together,
Because the key to release them has been
Swallowed by youth and our hours till morning
Are fading like your slipping resistance,
To letting love land its fragile feathers upon the inside of your thigh,
And then taking wing on the thermals
That rise from the friction of fantasies collision with skin.

In sin I’ll reclaim you
And consecrate our communion
In the cathedrals of your eyes.  
Even the way you hold your breath is holy
And though lips are sealed
I like the stammer of your speech
Are slipping secrets into the cavern of an ear,
Where we wait out the weather
Of a thousand spit lovers lost
Trying to douse the bon fire that burns between the legs
Of each and every human that has ever spent the night
Making love to the moon,
Cause she never shows her dark side
Only grins a crescent promise  
And laughs as if the stars were suitors
Trying to out sing her cratered mouths.
In a thousand voices she
Whispers hope to this conflicting
River of blood and bone
That make up all I have to sell
To the window shoppers who peak
Their heads into my bedroom to find me
Shaping love out of a pocket full of missed calls and shadows
Who can never drown my thirst
For a straight answer to the timeless question
Of will you still kiss me
In the morning  

She rides the winds like a whisper
But can never reach my borealis
And instead burns so sweetly
With lips of ash

When the last vision is lost
And the moon rises over the red mountains
Does the soul crawl forth and walk again?
The only angels, buzzards riding on thermals
Greet the flesh with hunger. And what
heart opens to see the beauty of love
Of compassion? The perpetual expanse
Of stars above, the great unfolding.

That Magical Summer

We said we would love one another for ever it seemed to be true we took our queue from the river we
Often stood before its delightful meandering show always curious what is around the next bend it
Blended in its artful soul with the sandbars different shapes and sizes that gave a more picturesque
Rendering little could be seen when the water ran full bank to bank on the bars it seems the trees
Bowed and their branches barely touched the brown exposed face hair to play on the face giving
A tender delightful measure putting it all in a free flowing texture that gave the eyes the joy that called
The heart to singing then as unseen wings the tendrils would swing and sway in the breeze there to take
You into my arms and join in with the soft twirling dance everything would change the entire backdrop
Scenes would whisper what love alone lives on romance would swell and tell all nature our hearts knew
No limits or measure and in those treasured days it was so you spoke and the sky would imply by its
Very Silent attentive sensitive canopy of divine blue it is true love binds all imagination and you it will
Serve the day slowly playfully gives every ounce of light to create those richest expression did we not
Unknowingly cross into the sacred moorings of Camelot it had to be so those feelings live only in that
Tempest of glory that slows and you drift like winged wonders to secret dwellings that dark billows only
Ever reveal themselves to lovers bask dwell on thermals of air as in each other’s eyes you stare it is the
Time for daring if not now never then open your lips sweetly press them then passion’s swell crushing
Then step back look deeply into her eyes you speak and living streams of poetry washes over her
Conscious knowing the heart is melted to pure thought you play among the unknown regions of earth
And sky ghost like you divide light and darkness the core of your soul has been divined this love will
Speak secrets rarified and hardly ever spoken will continue through years that cruel life would denounce
And send to rocky dangerous shores pour the molten lava over this paradise make the way back
Impossible to find and recapture but in the mind it still lives and will live eternally my love a quest of one
Summer will not fall as ancient walls a fortress that love did make will never perish no matter how long
The years stupefy and hold us at bay your essence comes on the summer breeze my heart enlarges my
Mind holds no other thought I follow in shadows and dreams and it is enough true love conjures its own
Habitation

This describes all of the cottage industry angels that men produce they are angels for profit
Pure angels Zechariah 1:8 “I saw by night and behold a man riding on a red horse and it stood
Among the myrtle trees in the hallow and behind him were horses red, sorrel, and white then I  
Said my lord what are these so the angel who talked with me said to me I will show you what
They are” what they are is the most pleasurable and pure knowing of angels they are in God’s
Word doing the work of God we don’t discredit angels in books but here you can have a sigh of
Relief knowing assuredly their wings is not noise filled from rust or any manner of impurity
Join them in complete utter trust they haven’t been set before you for any ulterior motive of
Anyone the song blessed assurance doesn’t come from this but how glorious here the door is
Wide open come in and dwell among sacred doings in the earth feel alone weak sad come to
This clearing that appears profound all powerful truly you can mount up on angel wings soar
The True dimensions of the soul unbound in delirious thrilled freedom ride on thermals created  
By visitors who call heaven home you will be touched by reality unknown to human thought
Truly the rush of angel’s will surround you live in a beleaguered world of fallen angels that only
Seek our hurt but in this rarified place where heavenly glory is readily displayed you will know
Peace comfort and power adrift you are bestowed with garlands now temporarily but one day
It will be replaced with a golden sacred crown on your head His gleaming light will shoot out in
All directions accompanied by your joyous laughter these are truths and thoughts that will
Enrobe you enthrall you the sweetest tremble the softest tenderness will beguile you where
You will abide among true friends and protectors that serve God honorable just a few true
Words that will truly uplift you what is being described is your birthright your treasure without
Measure it’s not written in stone but in Holy love that consumes heaven’s thoughts you are the
Central most desirable discussion that heaven ever has this is just one mention of that truth

Blown between thermals
black tips punctuate azure.

Steady glide
empty horizons loom.

Pitiful cries
Fear her own abandonment

and white headed stallions
charge below,

their salt sweat
scorch throat, blind eyes.

An inborn junction
she turns curse free

The scent of green
Fills the levanter

The night lies dark the sky has a dull brightness you start on a midnight stroll and then your feet ascend
On thin air at first you turn and look back and below then with exhilaration and freedom you move as a
Disconnected shadow how it feels to be bathed with the night air without objects or obstructions your
Most Tender feelings begin to emerge the swelling of a symphony plays all around as you go in a flow
That falls and rises the softness continues to dissolve the hard reality then the wooly lambs come and
Gather at your feet like you are the shepherd together you move on through the dark rhythms the last
Thermals of a pleasant warm day let you rise and float in nomadic wonder no destination unless it is
An intersection with pure joy you know blessing untold richer and bolder comes the thoughts then a
Succession of doors made of a cloudy rainbow of colors and when you enter you start to actively live
Cherished dreams those ones that paired you with your heroes and those that you always crave and
Once and a great while they come true in dreams in the most peaceful sleep you luxuriate all emotions
Spills out like someone is pouring out your soul to the vestige of love and appreciation and any where
You have long desired to visit you look up and it is coming into view your laughter can be heard loud and
Clear and sweet tears spill upon your pillow the moon that glows make them the richest silver this
Wealth has no end it extends through your will it makes the richest folds of a garment designed by
Deepest understanding and longing that which makes you perfectly human and strains of divine are
Shining through a vessel that is in tuned with its creator there is that never ending possibilities that just
Keeps expanding just like the universe it is without end just like you one day soon the curtain will be
Drawn back and all dreams will pale in comparison to your new life and home your hair will be colored
By the brightest light what a sight truly your skin will be whitest porcelain you will have the perfect finest
Linen gown you will truly float like this piece has spoken of this is not a dream but a promise that is true you
Will soon cross into this paradise that was made for you and I by an uncommon dreamer that knows the
Deep longings of your soul so spare no effort but make ready for that great day

Winging on thermals
across river valleys

counting days until
death hones-in;

lead pellets
swallowed,

prey
eaten.