In the fabric of my bones
lies a light within
trying to get out
a structure of stone walls, moss-covered & cool to the touch
linens of pale yellow butter soft
mornings of sweet dew-surrender & gasping grasping pause
nights secret & timed
a warrior's embroidered wait
here lie golden wide timbers of a floor weathered & worn shiny-smooth smelling of ale, salt & wind hands moving, open tendered response checkered pulling, pushing . . serving up a dash of welcome & place
i am there
lamps glow & laughter kicks me thru to tomorrow a home of stairs & lace
warm against gales of ice & oil bright with the coming of the green of Beltane
there is a home of stairs, lace & a promise of return the sea is there, but i do not gaze
it is easier to look star-ward knowing is gleaned in brilliant vastness
always waiting . . .
the log walls of this cabin weathered & worn shiny-smooth a hard ride on the open prairie and
the steady climb to tree line, horses - eager & present--feel their breath - pounding & trusting with palomino intent sage thick, smoke curly-chasing
elk & coyotes howl & dance no open, boiling sea here just a river running thru land
days endless & weary wind chasing sky chasing more time meshed in evergreen presence
a flicker of the something more the peace found in the rolling of clouds across the mountain
indian paintbrush, black eyed-susan & columbine star the trail tucked away from expectation & need brief here . . time is brief but sweetly gingered
tarry here . . .
until another river winds thru the dream mississippi-wide & meadow-larks delight
dresses fitting tight & candy-like
nothing is as it appears . . . not this landscape steeped in traditions old, pain & division
not this pretense of affection & indecision
i know i see you there amongst the others waiting for me , , take away
running, hiding darting the iron skyscape of interiors cloaked in strength & will
crumbled brick fires alight & games are played to the death
questions laid to rest - do not abide within the shadows
that is the question isn't it?
who exactly waits for who?
what we dream is not linear - subject to charms & algorithms
the silver train that speeds thru the skies illuminates the night
passing from one hand to the next to the next, gradual transportive movement
dance & catch & release
quantum traveling . . across the distance
silver opalescent rails worn shiny-smooth
expecting one, but it is the other who waits at the end
silver sleek sleeper-ride
now . . .
i see the house magnificent mid-century modern with glass, light, air & breath
redwood honed fresh - crisp all light all white sleek, new
trees billowing, shifting just beyond these walls of glass blue-ocean sky domed & perfect
crystal-silver clean smells freesia-white stillness
suddenly glancing down
has no one looked here yet?
where is everyone?
a rabbit hole
a place deep & dark & ancient
stone walls, moss-covered & cool to the touch
linens of pale
yellowed-butter soft surrender