winding windward
the acolyte, the novice, and me
she sees the break in the mist
To Believe
Whisper
this grain of sand is everything, nothing
needs no name for existence
the light on the landing

I am walking the hills again
I am calling the owl
It is dusk and I am barefoot in the cul de sac
This long light remembers forward
And wonders in reverse
In the shadowy always
no shoes required

Collision
Tomorrow we return to the beginning
The crack in the marble altar
The light on an obscure goddess’ face
The clear blue air of altitude
Laughter ringing the valley

A million possible lives etch across my palms
And Hadron might change the signature,
let water flow through this rock in the stream

Truth
we are atoms split at birth
the fusion of which is the reason of our existence

Cut the string
I suppose you gave me the only answer you could

To cut the string too tightly tied

The one I anxiously worked to keep attached to my person, the one that kept my spellbound stare skyward

Only way out of the knot really, but the sacrifice left me adrift as the tug upward on my wrist was suddenly released

A pure white globe Mylar helium drifted, backlit in sky, weaving upward to the tower room in the storm clouds, to serve another imprisoned soul

Now all my concentration seems focused on the jockey for space amongst diesel driven towers playing tortoise and hare,

Destination Unknown

Still, the pull home becomes apparent in an earthen gold dust lining the streets, all seeds eventually blow from the roots that feed them

An ushering journey to the mystic, Your hands flow out like water

In physics, the two-body problem is a matter of calculating the paths of objects in orbit around each other.

The trick the horizon plays, magnifying the setting moon

Such is the intimacy of epic space

the incredible lack of evolutionary evidence for flowers suddenly appearing.

Momentarily caught in vases on tables, the sad reminder of those who have gone

to catch glimpse of solidity in the sand whipped streets, veiled

to dare the oppressor with desperate letters of escaping hope

A solitary tear stalling along the apex of a still smooth face

Is the birth place of existence in barely contained salinity

Thus the translucence of skin at the gates of existence,

We span a life slowly losing everything we gain to survive...

finding each other

so we might fit through the door we were born to walk through

Chance

Sometimes I think we were meant to heal each other a little…

Not the kind of partnership that lasts through soccer practices and rushed meals

….our collective cracks would cancel those strengths before any foundation forms,

But the alchemy that burns through, changing forever the elemental signature

The spiritual exercise of the one night stand, divine in revelations never shared

…..that I dream of being the heroine in a planetary struggle for truth; the bearer of mystery and you feel Bogart should have convinced the girl to stay as the white house dissolved to credits

There appears a Venn diagram for every shadowing flame pulsing cellular

fading falling
dissolving dispersing deleting
shattering slipping
colliding collating coalescing

Pool cue broken balls bump the pocket,

particles accelerate toward walls,

quaking quarks quintecess

I have known since the youth of consciousness that I want to be scattered not buried

Spent too much time underground already

So please

hold this unbearable lightness of being, and kiss the dice towards permutation

I dwell in possibility

Do you See It?

On a Sunday not too long after Easter, promise arcs a deep gray sky.

Color as it was meant to be seen, echoing fainter incarnations on its side......

Propelled forward through a corridor of birthing green, the trees begin the dance of veiling themselves once again

Bridesmaids line the path in rioting pinks, whites, lavenders.

Across a spectacular year of firing neurons he wrote four papers that forked the path towards truth, diving deeper into the line of the one verse.

In the final piece a “quantum” leap took place

…..electrons fired do not always end up in the same place every time….

A mathematical proof of Chaos or a summons that we all have a part to play in this hurtling curve ball creation?

So reality bends, refracted light through a crystal, casting arcs of color through out the room in unexpected places

When an apple falls to the ground, which Newton assures us it always does, it will rot… quickly going back to the earth from which it sprang….however in the risk of the reach, of sinking in our teeth, the apple becomes a part of us….

E=MC2

Perhaps in that far off place at the beginning of human time a rainbow followed them out of Eden, carried within……the arc of a covenant.

Do you see it?

Majesty
A Flight

She’s captivated…… peering out the window of a plane, the earth’s vast distance feeds her awe.

Impossible lines

rise of land before mountains shoot,
a dazzling white peak reach skyward,
A single river careening cut across a brown plain,
traverse following no set path,
a bending beauty,
A trace of tears left when change caused flood,
Small rises, small flattenings,
The inevitable shaping of the mountain, The inevitable slope towards river

Lead to a divide

These earthly lines that defy proofs yet resound in pattern run headlong into
geometric shape perfection farms, derived from years of calculating science imposed on the land

A line in the sand

When the fires burn will they find each other in her waters?
Stammered by the miracle of a common language, a chord upon the scale

A Landing

A symphony of setting light on crystallized water and dust, clouds populate a canvas that defies all notion of boundary, washing into solitary saguaro silhouettes standing guard, a feathering femininity floats amongst them

She’s captivated…….. peering out the window of a car the sky’s vast distance feeds her awe.

A Phoenix