The Hackberry

 

this chrysalis
this pulsing knot 

    of linen Dear,
lies just below the ribcage
three fingers right of the heart
Oh!
How the yearning pulls at tissue & rhyme
each gaze-every pause
before you there;
stoic
unremarkably unmoved by my desire
no tendril finds its way
no barked embrace
your trappings stripped by winter's wind
gray becomes you
but Oh how soon adorned you'll be by April
you have born witness to my days
steeped in solitude & surrender
you remained
steadfast
mighty
two carolina wrens dance among your nakedness
(jealous I am not, as they are of my own making)
singing of blue promises delight
endlessly branched to the heavens
as the wind picks up
and I gaze
I pause
against warming roots
pressed
remained
three fingers right of my heart

blue of first spring

the sky sings with vapor trails
pulsing against the buried pockets of the Akash Ganga
sounding of brightness & cobalt mystery
bird-wing to particles of faint stars & dust motes
gathered under this dome of shifting cerulean
morning's haze veils the depth
banishing dark matter beyond our spiral care
falling, colliding, enveloping

listen 
feel

the pressure of awakening rests
     in the wired connection of the reach
wind sweeps out of the west
warming in the rise of day 

between the panes of weather & waiting

outside the window 

lies the wind leaves tucked into corners 

the morning dove-grey a japanese maple a sculpture 

the rain 

words reduce the vast expectation of circular currents 

too narrow comes on the day 

too brief this pause before the rain becomes snow becomes 

later 

this day where words trap the vast soaring pour of 

light 

rubor's tale

to move the silver token
splay the sand
break the chalice upon the winter's land
throw the spark to fire
despite the cold thread
that starts
.... to
tingle
and pulse along the central nervous chasm
between the 3rd and 4th vertebrate of mercury & jupiter
with
no
regard
to the relative position of the sun
or the single-arrow-choice of authenticity
but to move anyway
to move into the crash of fracture
where broken glass becomes blood coursing
ripping
tasting of nightshade flight
to become --
to become not right
we touch
we tender
the abrasion to the sound
of
celt drums and saturday morning cartoons
and
our own faint fragile heartbeat
lapsed by the living
except trees .... trees will always bend
as does the sky
and the yellowed photographs found upon old black pages in old albums lost
so
we touch 
we tender
the carnival season rolls past; thunder, rain and rubies scattered
parcel paper & tight-ribboned bindings batter
the wad of injury festers
scolded & scalded & scaffolded
to its prime meridian line of less
never enough never good enough never
enough enough
forgotten ....
until
a drop of daring connects
the day 

a hand
lifts & tucks
knows
collects
gathers
straightening is felt
[felted]
smooth roundness of the whole
laid upon the back of the tongue
in waves of honeyed cake and vanilla rum
a bearable light felt
trees bend in sacred reverie
trees always bend 
sky reflects the cyan stirring
clarity is rubbed by that walnut hand to shine a fraction of
pearled opalescence deep deep into the fissure
finding it enough
polishing just enough
returning
to
diamond

blessing

This soft grey cusp of Spring 

   after an evening chasing the borealis 

I set fire to a etched part on forty-years-ago pages 

inked in a hollow longing for something more something shiny something rich 

I set fire under an overcast cool sky on the cusp of Spring 

white smoke rising in curls & swirls of forgiveness 

     smoke proportional to the sorrow 

     the rising equal to the promise of blue 

white smoke rising 

   tears in eyes 

   smoke in hair 

whispering prayers 

to the hollow longing part

whispering prayers aloud 

   to the promise collide of self & cloud 

           and unexpectedly under a sky opening to blue 

                   it began to snow 

Five Answers to the Same Questions

I. 

daffodils 

great horned owls 

laughter times truth 

reasons 

rhymes and pink chalk lines 

red bird songs

the color blue 

II. 

antelopes 

jack-a-lopes 

marma-chuck-your-sweetie 

bubble gum notes 

small hands close

maples & oaks 

heart's entreaty 

III. 

feathers & things 

all flying things 

dog's breath & kisses 

sorrow's bursting epistle 

what fools who travel 

this path 

fates fancy dash 

IV. 

tight-rope balance 

high-flying kites 

forests & rivers 

time moves so fast 

buckled in 

yet groundless 

boundless 

V. 

red maples & honeysuckle 

cedar wax-wing's song 

lavender sunflowers 

everything can go wrong 

so many things right 

hold most things loosely 

hold hope & constellations tight 

close your eyes

take flight

 

україни

this same sun 

this same sky 

these same stars 

shine at night 

how to make sense of a war we can't see or hear 

no circling bombs only clouds & birds 

here 

the same sun shines 

rising each day 

the same sky of blue 

lifts cares away 

may these stars guide all 

to rest & peace 

to those who seek respite & ease 

away from war 

away from fear 

away from homes they hold so dear 

towards better days 

towards open arms 

may it cease today ....  this unholy time 

one sun 

one sky 

one prayer unites 

one wish for all 

for peace tonight