the places we gather
inside
how we hide
in between
the pieces of yesterday
and the rise of tomorrow
within
us, and through all time
we didn’t know but walked
empty
trying to hold water
up
with our hearts, and how
it rained down
rained down
on
us
before
we
knew
Us
horizon
line against time
sea catches sun
I count sunsets ~
sea beams float cloud songs
infinite days
secrets like a tree torn of leaves,
each one a truth untold, even
the desperate grip of branches
could not stop the fall. sun stares,
demands honesty, reveals deceit
in her glare. his wooden arms
are no match for her golden gaze,
so all of it falls, half-truths and lies,
and he becomes bare, only bony
fingers of regret, reaching out,
as if she would forgive. she covers
her eyes in clouds and turns away.
sea collects sun
swirl of vibrant harmony
golden hues of time
lost
without
sea soul set
think hope peace float
one being love being one
peace feel hope fly
sun soul sky
within
lost
(today I decided to walk out deep into the woods until I came up with answers to the questions I have been pondering. after walking more than 7 miles in the heat, I found myself lying face down in a grove of trees, with no recollection of what had happened. i took this photo then. i was injured, dizzy, and in no shape to walk the remaining 5 miles back to my car, but i realized that, not only did i have no phone reception, but i had no one to call to come help me. somehow i made it out. i was in the woods for almost 5 hours. after i got home, i found this poem on my phone. i wrote it today, but i have no recollection at all of writing it. i think that says a lot.)
eight miles out i fall
black out, wake up
stones edge tree lean
ask. no reception here
no one to call. leaks
from knees, red, and eyes,
clear drops of alone
air crush with know. no
breath. out of focus all.
lost. alone. maybe here
home after all.
Sun grew as flower grew as me.
Rays that stretched and reached,
pushed through the wormy earth
to climb on stemmed leg. We drank falling
water and embraced warm. Nights,
we faded, rested silently, to be
re-born at dawn. When at last we opened,
our faces turned to one,
flower, me, sun.
echoes my mind
caught in between time
floating in escape
driving the day,
crossing the bridge to home,
sun opens her arms
What the sheep know (but don’t say)
is not to stand alone (stay together),
and the square behind them (not a door),
marks the difference between dark and light.
Time is measured in greening grass,
the wait for rain, and the length of winter
(I wait for things that never happen).
They walk the day with new eyes (I cry).
Red and white, sun and water, and me –
they see (we are all this day). I stand.
They stand. I wonder (the sheep know).
all along i’ve been not knowing
so i could see the violet in the sunset,
but i missed the moon rise and the
wishing star. i captured the violet
but lost the music of the wave break,
waft of salty air, and the hollow feel
of you, walking away, beneath the violet.
You show me a skull, tell me you scare people,
and you don’t believe in God.
I nod and listen, smile a little, and hold out my hand.
Come with me, let’s walk together. Take my hand –
It’s warm, you say – yours is, too, but I knew it would be.
Let’s walk the shore and you tell me why God can’t exist.
I promise to hear you, if you promise to stop with me,
close your eyes and listen to the way waves
feel as they gather toward shore, and break
their release to the sand in song. And see the shells,
and the driftwood, each one a different sea sailor. Listen;
they will tell you stories of voyages and places you could
never know. Breathe the salt air, know it like home,
like carefree summer days and moonlit nights, it holds you.
Now let the words go and watch as my sun floats to the waiting
sea, his arms outstretched to embrace her. Do you feel the yellow?
I watch you close your eyes, and I wrap my arms around you
as the shades of glow and sincerity wash through you. Quiet.
The sun has gone and sweet blue shines the sand. You turn
around silently to hug me. I feel it. Watching you drive away,
I see you smiling. There is love all around you.
God just followed you home.
Seek Peace
He blew through bitter and dark,
battering her shores with cruel winds
that dragged her in a frenzied, swirling dance.
His wrathful waves assaulted her shore,
her protection, as he slammed his rage
against her, under somber, swirling skies.
She pleaded, tried to reason with him,
even sang a song, of the love between sand and sea,
but his relentless rage continued,
for she had taken up with the sun,
and he could not bear to see her golden sands.
To save herself, she bowed her head,
put up a fence to fend him off,
but he struck it down, “Let your sun
shine on a broken fence.”
Then, depleted from his fury and the change of tides,
the sea retreated, dragging as many
pieces of her with him as he could.
The sun shone on what remained.
He keeps stars in his pockets and smiles through his days.
She walks in her sun, awaiting the night. It used be that nights
crawled on her, crushed her, spun her to the ground.
But now the star keeper rises with the moon, hangs his stars
one by one across the night sky, just for her.
Half a world away, she watches her beloved sun paint the sky
before disappearing, with colors so deep and lovely, she can
feel them until tomorrow. Then, closing her eyes, she thinks of
her star keeper and his pockets full of stars. He is remembering her,
losing her sun to the sea. A star appears in her lonely sky.
And another. and another. And soon her sky is full,
the starkeeper’s painting of night – peaceful, humble, gentle light.
Quietly, she sleeps under his canvas of stars, and he rests.
Stars don’t need words.
Waits, until it can push past
wooden fingers that reach up
to block it, and thick, heavy arms
it swings as the winter breeze blows
cool. She’s trying to shine on me, as I
sit on the edge with arms wrapped
tightly around folded legs. Trying to reach
me, to warm me, but angry tall tree
hovers over, threatens to keep her from me,
with his rough, old body and so many limbs.
I hear his sinister laugh as I shiver, but she
doesn’t give up, she rises higher, where
his bony fingers can barely reach and peeks
through, glowing. The tree sags a little,
knowing the sun will win, and she bursts
through the holes in his bare branches
and I am warm enough to turn
my face skyward and smile.
glass ball in the sun
Talking to the Clouds 