In spirit, I sit in clarity and toss a pebble into the lake of infinite possibility,
glyptic ripples impart understanding
On a bench in front of the coffee shop I toss a word into the conversation of companions,
the architecture of limbs and eyes imparts understanding.
In silence I watch a thought envolve into a new world, visualizing another page in my book of infinite personifications.
Playfully I choose clothing, companions, and destinations,
nudging ossified spirits toward mirth,
fed by the beauty in the eyes of children.
At home I read, write, cook, clean, and garden,
sometimes fear arrives in a new disguise to present me with another riddle.
Convenience and concrete
form safe pathways for travel.
On a good day, smiles and sidewalk art
reflect the color of absent wildflowers,
Yet often neither is quite enough
to fill the emptiness left,
by the absence of grasses under our feet,
and the wildness to which we no longer
Wisdom grows as years pass
Love once known is never lost
Grief the wait between.
In perfect solitude,never alone,
an Isle whole, amidst the stream undone.
A greying form set deep in evening wood,
practices stilling time In firey blood
Beyond my home somehow an oddity,
to those who’s lives bleed incongruity.
The uniform, where their allegiance lies,
obtuse to perfect patterns in my eyes.
Almost too vivid, as if I might burn,
The eyes or hearts that dare to look too long.
Touched by the wolf and heron’s majesty,
the rainbows arc, aurora’s mystic light,
the things that set my grieving spirit free,
still lend their fire to bring my eyes delight.
This old owl’s imbued illumined grace,
whose lighted eyes know even darkness’ face,
they trace the beauty in all things they see,
the promise of life’s immortality.
Resting on this hill above the field,
I wait to see what way lightning will take.
And having learned that I am dreaming still,
await true beauties face when I awake.
Night covers summers bloom-
Distance hides beloved eyes
Loves light is still bright.