Of Septembers ...

writing sustains
-sometimes-
fills the hollows when the river slows
mercurial
fluid
fierce
words & water
devotion weaved in destruction's whispers

rising

rising

to
bind heart to land and moon

rising

rising

words pour from unfamiliar fingers
from hands once young
water
spills
tumbles
over stone and shore
once young

we rise
we rise
tumbling
billowing
in liquid hope
words & water 

moving between

this is the quiet hollow of pain before surrender
dull in its persistence
ringed in quilts of cotton & ginger
chilled
on this last hot alfalfa night of a long dry summer
hollow
but not
gnawing
grinding
hollow
of this piquant hour

midnight
restless mooned midnight
where somewhere on this last hot alfalfa night
a boy in a red truck waits under the big dipper for a girl in a hurry to grow up
hollow

but not
timeless
stillness
fullness
jackson brown plays on a radio from a station just south of chicago
hollow buzz buzzing of energy puzzled into heart and thighs hot
the last hot alfalfa night of a long, dry summer

on this last hot alfalfa night
cotton & ginger

still....

drawn to the shimmer of breath & breeze
this dog day morning
shadows take me
verdant linen woodland surrounds
surrender comes
in the lengthening of the heart-line
in the sureness of knowing
blue jays call to the alice-blue sky
lost & found
damned & joyful
we dance & love & lean
into the space that is us
that is this golden land
this time held between
breath & breeze....

come.

Saṃsāra

coyote song and air stream trailers
hands held tight to august sky
gray fog dawn rolls in on the last boom of thunder
want circles the silver moon by&by

tall tales and arms wide open
wells of laced sorrow sit in the darkness of your eyes
listening to mary gauthier & a blue jay calling
consequence & redemption pierce surrendered sighs

no need to peel the bark from the maple
no need to choose left or right
no need to kneel at the sacred alter
lovers know always the price

burn of sun and midsummer's hazy promise
seeking shelter from contrast's gamma rays
path lies between the sage gap and the violet thyme of turning
lay down your whiskey softness and turn the page

there is no balm--no fix to story
no dissolve to the break of morning's alice blue
listen with a painted jasper heart stone solid
the point of the tale is to keep wandering through

no need to peel the bark from the maple
no need to choose the stay or the go
no need to kneel at the alter of this moment
love becomes the cost of morning's afterglow

eclipse

of sun and moon
and
ten thousand nights
venus blooms
verdant shadows loom 'neath tremors of shine
stones and thyme
bone to breath
consent
these currents alight
drag your fingertips across the linen
raw edges burn
delight
as darkness waxes blue jays crack with
the fading light
erudite sphinx moths quiver--flit
pale green to amber gem
strange this veil
this thread we hold
of sun
of moon
of him

two o'clock

i am this day
gimlet stirred to pale alice blue
softly cradled at sixty-two
wind out of the west rustles--bows
to branch
to bramble
and bumblebees briar
stillness
pulls dust-iridescence from afternoon sky
into trails
that linger
behind winged bumble's goodbye
alight the world
the day
the break
of sunbeams
moonbeams
and lavender cakes
i am this day
this wind
this light
molten and polished
blue folded to night

pieces of June stirring

Take:
The shattered right femur of a girl
add
to that a green wool beret
funny pages from the sunday paper
scrambled eggs
and paper dolls
the taste of snow on your tongue
rosary beads of tulsi kapoor
a velvet Elvis painting
and your tucked away watercolor.
Then add rain
lots
of
rain--
the sound of rain
the smell of rain.
Add heaps & heaps of Dr. Zhivago snow
sparkling-blue-sequined-in-the-moonlight-snow
and
nose-deep-in-tomatoes-earth,
high-altitude-earth, horse-stable-earth
Plus rainbow trout
apples & New Orleans
Stir in the flume of diesel & cigar smoke on a London street
and the bite of whiskey & jazz
along with the opalescent thrumming of a hummingbird
Slice it
smoothly deep & narrow--during the shine of this blue-green corn moon
threaded with indigo & owl tears
Thunder rumbles
rolls
Rain comes
Once long ago,
I rode with my mother
as we searched for autumn leaves down a tree-lined country road.
I wore a purple coat
and my mother was so very present & the leaves were the color of her heart;
soft deer-brown, crimson with the lightest orange
When do we know that we are the same?
That we will yearn & bleed?
When is the sky more blue than ever before
and how often is a lifetime traversed
in a kiss?
Surrender lies there
where skin meets the sun
and
the day's fresh mown grass melts into evening's cool cotton sheets
Sureness shines in your dark eyes
and
forgiveness is found in the pause between seasons
and
in the heaviness of our bones
Love is all.
And I will wake
and
I will remember