dear fire inside ....

polishing the rocks 

tumbled & divine 

the dress was silk-raw-lichen green 

movement directed by moonbeam 

one + one = one 

undone 

drala is strong here 

but dharma weakening against the sun 

press repeat 

to taste the honey 

folded enfolded felted fire spun 

no ground 

we are sky 

undone 

Cartesian Casting

our goodness disguises itself
as a hesitant trembling
A-421.6Hz
bound to marrow and memory
surer than this first snowfall

or

the weary grief poised upon regret's edge

no doubt in the fear we are not enough

incomplete our box of paints
unfinished our sculpted stories

imperfection and debris create the amber
feel the whirling diadem of your existence
here
in this first 
snowfall

in and of

timeless enfolding

syncopated rhythms of petaled forgetfulness 
oh!

how we turn inward while turning outward
to sun
to the violet edges of linen old
crinkled clasping of celadon-hope to breast full-striving
for that sulfur spring
while doubt circles disguised as stardust 

we loom fierceness with hands leaning in

how can we tender to such persimmon fragility
while soothing our own feathered fear & bones?
holding in fractal spaces 

defined by
lips pressed to peach skin pressing protection white white

lean in
lean in 

to love in all it's brilliance
to the cutting sorrow path
lean in

remembering

rooted in coriander 

falling 

falling 

the bursting orange & yellow of this day 

presses tight against some boundary 9° removed from blue 

yearning to feel anything but the hollow 

i

surrender 

and fall amongst the debris of stars 

you. are. here.

 This vantage point is 42° into the goldenrod 

still able to see the blue but no longer enveloped 

nor can I taste its marmalade 

my tongue dry now restricted by my settling 

or it could be just the smoke 

- pink haze drifting into the oak trees 

as blue jays tuck into the stillness of morning 

I like this quiet 

this new place that feels a bit solitary 

but lined with a mercurial seeing that 

makes everything 

mine 

2020

to not know the things we don't know
unconscious unconsciousness
masquerading as politics
doubled down to blue to black to brown
place my money on lucky number 3
where
intent lingers unchecked unopen unremarkable
uncoupled ignorance masked naively as an unplowed field
goldenrod trodden
thistle tall and forgotten
overgrown mythology of our milky way
buried in the linen bones of neural falls
white blinding
haunting truths unveiled
soul's courage outlined in the palm of a hand
arrows shame precisely seeping into that fallow land
water with tears tendered from a million suns
seed, ponder rebirth
for what it's worth
and
the
glory of a planet yet to rise ....
one, two, buckle my shoe
cry for the many
unearth the dream 

unbuckle the carpetbagger from his paper throne 

rise up 

rise up oh you wondrous ones! 

Fides

Blogs and words and blood that binds
trust that leaves the world behind
I've scattered dust into the sun
and traded love for my souls tongue

We fight and rage in civil wars
hell-bent to stand above the killing floor
trust is thick--a coin with two sides
and pity the fool who blindly abides

We seal our fate--lock the door
and discover we don't know love anymore
instead we are hollow of possible light
but holy our war and righteous our fight

To parry and thrust with ego aloft
judgement we weld while honor is lost
narrow is the path and treacherous the lie
only to find the godlight has died

Winter's full moon outlines the cost
each tale unfolds with perspective tossed
until we acknowledge loves color and might
with trust as its cord that weaves all in tight

So stand in the fire or beyond its rage
but either way play on kaleidoscopes stage
trust, love and light--the scout-badges you seek
not hate not ego or vintage treasures keep

Bows and flows of angel hair. . .
two sides exist in everywhere