to blue ....

i am a child of the plains & prairie
tendered amongst open fields of golden wheat, milo & corn-silk
sky & earth i have always known
yet
there are times in the bleed of the day
times under the whiteness of the moon
that water calls me home . .
vast & blue
open smooth water
with winds warm & complete
aqua & infinite
or
rolling into sapphire wickedness &
bone-chilled surrender
bring me blue & leave me there
gloriously unearthed &
made fragile by wind & water
wounded by starshine & solitude
trust & strength collide in the
hours & bones
so
bring me blue & leave me there
with absolute bearing
capable & precise
rocked by the spray of the sea
so harden up
bring me blue & leave me there ,,,,

upon the bark of blossoms

stenciled
cherry bloom upon the gray of blue
trailing the wounded ... the collateral damage
wrapped in ancient calendar pages & lemon balm
does the inside ever match the outside

axis part two

sensation sometimes disguises itself 

as 

sophomoric sentimentality
candy apple brightness hurls along causing the hairs to stand up on forearms
trembling to the distant sound of crickets, cellos and bees
what is authentic movement?
the downward-dog of you?
glass crusted 

and
crackled with the dust of unknown origins
reach beyond the tactile first responder
reach marrow deep to scrap the soul fibers of Jupiter from your tongue
oh petty benign graze of presence ....
soothe the night wrinkles
draw a warm bath
and
sing to me of
cerise waxwings & marigold 

thimblerig

Every breath a lament for the loss of you
every breath
in & out
in:
cerulean sky smoking past my lips, into me …
living in the corners of soft forgotten viscera
is there a time when i am full ?
full enough of wren song & the new grass of April
that
i
cease belonging to myself
instead …
a shell of fire, stars & stories carmen thread
a winged & rooted thing
sitting in the shade on a sidewalk on a cobbled street
in some ancient city
in Spring
somewhere that smells of vellum & apricots
collecting tales
collecting linen minutes
as
the sky beads from my skin
a harbinger of return
and
the intangible alchemy of immortality

the blue jay

a blue jay calls ....
forecasting ,,,?
some feathered crisis pending in the bark-leaf world?
some theft of spirit or source?
an invitation for company?
a subtle shift in geography ...
a blue jay calls
pushing open an ancient door 

left ajar
by spirits thick with the honeyed ordinary
stepping into a forested hollow
replete with apple pie
gingham tomato trees
and
pearled iris purple budding amidst earth-wet
the sweet smell of existence
defines the atomic capacity
to be in two worlds at once
to be incandescently wakened
when a blue jay calls