redemption

I dreamt the contrast
of light against the shallow
containers of life pressed and chalked to buildings shadowed
tightness and expansion folded into the transparency of being
I am a jellyfish
both enchanted by myself & repulsed
changing to fit into the mold provided by my captors
freedom carried in an overnight bag
smelling of yesterday & you
dust lies thick as fear
yet
generosity steeps in lavender tea left to capture the last rays of a sun
too oft forgotten
power lies in the open fields beyond the stars
beyond this dust

spring fever

somnolent and sullen I've been
awaiting my elixir
perfectly portioned to numb the limbs of trees
and wings of songbirds
the ancient doorknob falls apart in my hands as I enter
the space between here and there
gold to grain
gathering milkweed and goldenrod from the river's edge
while the world burned
turn down the bed
turn up the volume of Dylan and The Band
sit here with me and watch the shadows become

sit here with me
still and poised upon the hands of every-time
too trite
too right
the breeze off the water wakens

chills the
bones and the wings of songbirds
changing transforming aging
creating still
breathing still
do you smell the smoldering of Spring?
do you hear the rush of the weary?
after the cooling
where will we rest?
amongst the cottonwood and warrens of rabbits and fox
tall grasses dance
and become

it is what it is

there is a trembling to my sternum
cacophonous and startling
like a bird trapped
against the wire
there is the sky but I can not touch it
feathers singing to a moon tucked upon the cusp of highway
sun lies
love dies
there is no warmth
merely a shadowing of clouds to the density of winter
trembling trembling
I feel you there brushing against my shoulder like a ghost
there is a depth
terrifying--tight
narrowing to spring's promise
delight hides from eyes accustomed to the dark
there is a trembling to my days
cacophonous and startling
in their hollow
like a bird trapped
there ....

epoch

a blueprint?
or a veil to your days
as
you are to mine--
do you listen to Radiohead wailing to the new moon
or do you sip tea amongst colleagues draped in sanity
pretending wholeness?
are you filled with whiskey or love
here in these dark times
pressing pressing
against the bark of trees to hear their prayer?
tell me ...
is there measure & merit
cheer & choirs of dormant bees
how far do you see without me?
are horizons wide and outlined in violet-blue?
are winds fierce and smelling of summer?
take the ink and trace the line of rivers to
the January moon and back again
pressing pressing
a blueprint or a veil?
perhaps
both ... as it once was it remains
arms open
to sky
and
stillness

new moon dawn

this rosy morning sky
filling the horizon beyond the ams of icy trees
beyond the stillness of rising
along these quiet streets
snow rests in corners & shadow parts
pulsing with cold & luminous light
Oh Winter ... your days are numbered
yet you grasp so the bracing cold of the hidden sun
this rosy morning sky

звезды

Domed days under herculean skies
stepping, counting, bending days
striving for aqua-puzzled-reason
nights shading, dripping into indigo
as faith's trajectory shifts to a new meridian
soul seeks nourishment from stars
and
the unexpected conversation
Healing lies therein:
circini, corvus & circus trains
compassion's permeable
boundaries spiraling
to
the open arms of night

first quadrant of the northern hemisphere

the tips of my bird-bone-fingers graze dense clouds upon ascent
curling the rosemary held between worried lips
expanding the spaces between knots & knuckles
to climb away
back to deep sky
back to the secret firefly
oddly positioned within the white rose cluster of night
rising rising
bracing against the chill of January
feathers full & trembling
ice forming on lashes dipped in ink & mercury
armored in stories of brilliant yellow
to climb away
back to shadow's light
solitary and not
dull and sharp
still and symphonic
shallow and deep
once within it becomes my gentle bones
to climb away
back
home