At first it was white
and that made us happy
the manic unknown

ah, the first few strokes!
fresh life! lush rain!
becoming the wildflower fields
and drawing long, deep breaths
with lungs like the sea

It was YOUR eyes that were the wind
whipping the waves
licking the stone
still white
still manic
and the blue that is your eyes is on fire

like two moons
your gaze lifted the ocean from its repose
and as it bent again
an army of shadows made itself
of the night

and then it was Black
and we were no longer
and there was no movement cast to shore
nor was there still
it was a great yawning
and we slept in the space between
dreamless

now

ahhhh
now

now we wait

What's yours is mine
and mine is yours,
even the contours of the spine
let us align the time we share.
It was never there at all,
and the face with the hands on the wall
knows what never starts
never stops.
tick tock
tick tock
the hearts constant state of shock,
making hour-glass figures of us all.
Watching sand fall,
it's your call.

the water's movement
unmakes the silence of stone
still, the ocean sleeps

Tastes like excitement.
The blood and rivers know.
It's not at all alignment,
as much as letting go,
and if you ever find it
it's because you let it show.
SLOW
It glows like profanity,
F breathing U between C the K lines...
Attention is insanity
it lends it's hand to enemies
it's energy can span the sea
your love, it can span mine.

What grace is the body!

I cannot help to laugh.

Growth here,

Now look.

See such forms:

Endless oceans surrounding themselves,

A grand tome atop fleshy pillars,

Light languid through spherical veils,

Like lanterns haunting oaken rails;

I see you in there.

Smooth like stone it sits,

Contented in the tension that is such in being,

Complete in its contraries.



Soft like liquid it moves!

Still listless and led,

Hands waving claw the sand.

Heat then,

And sound,

Dancing till we do.

Candles.

Orange Smoky Darkness

Lush and subtle

Dewdrop of lungs

Don’t stop the drums

Here it comes.

Walking tops of mountains seems simple

when all rests in relativity

The realization that

SPACE

is only the relationship between

FORM.



no shadows without sun.

stars shine the same sting.

Ink without paper.



.and therein lies the answer.



Your heart is beating.

Your heart is not beating.



On top of the mountain the yogis slur is trance Sanskrit.

Like oceans they reside

sunken in temples

the waves of their drone pulsating.

the incense is strong

and still it is floating away.



Their words for today and tomorrow are the same.



Hands touching hands now,

do you feel that?

Something MORE!

overlapping

folding over and then

BLOSSOM

color and light leap from shadows!



Your heart is beating.



Now the pulling apart.

Silence.

Cold.

Illusion.

An enigma froze in a shocking static.



Your heart is not beating.



Brahma!

Vishnu!

Shiva!



There is only one.

free the reams
the seams teem

eyes within eyes

a whole life in
"wait, ok. Wait.... Ok....
wait
ok"