do not land in my palm because they trust me. I am a phantom they barely notice. They sense my body heat, the blood coaxed through my thin veins like tree sap, and they hear my vibrations, the way Beethoven coped with going deaf, stopping long enough to bathe their tawny-colored tongues with seed, crushed seashells of safflower and thistle, […]
nature
Creation
Long after therules of magica lush smoke of pipe tobaccorises from thedried leaves prayers cast inthe blackand oily birth light
The Sturgeon
The mechanics of suffering is not so daunting to understandit hurts for a while-gums and bellies pierced byan unseen passion… and then it is donethe savory-sweet, cherry cough syrup scentof death dries and disappears, leavingonly impressions in the ample depth of sand
A Mountain Prayer
I kneel so that I may remember thiswithout words, this mountain withouta wasted breath speaks and I want toremember the way I felt listened to. So I close my eyes and breathe in the aroma I smell peeled apple and peppermint, mossand dried roses, orange blossom water in my throatand I taste the words of […]
Where the River Bends
Our memories were Once possibilities ofGod’s timeless perfectionOur lives predicted by Laws of grace, our dreamsForgotten by the freedomOf moments lost and foundAn everlasting river of momentsRushing to fall apart again andAgain, more than a mother or fatherGod is a friend, the one who holds us
