Moon at Midnight – Part XXII (day 1996)

(part XXI)

This was my new family
My life became so entwined with them
Every day for me was filled
With compassion I had never experienced before
Not even living at home with my Irish parents
Who set the fire at 4:15 every night
There were other people that involved themselves in our life
But they had their own things
And I had for the most part
Already been completely welcomed into the family.

I took Willow and Lily with me to see Amy, Frank, and Clarinet
Who were at first beside themselves with joy
That I had found myself a wife
And then flustered with how to celebrate
The special event with us,
Because of the communication we had developed
They were able to talk with us
And only some of the time Willow would lean on me
Asking what they had just meant
But she was never-the-less shy
About meeting White people
And didn’t quite know how to act
Or what to do in a social setting like this with them.

When we were on our way home
Winding through a path that was now familiar
I asked Willow how she had liked Amy & Frank
She said: “Amy very beautiful, Frank very clean.”
I laughed a good long time
After hearing this
In spite her questioning: “What? What?”
I couldn’t stop my laughter
And couldn’t get enough of this woman who loved me
I asked her how she liked their home
Wooden walls, and rocking chairs
And a steel fireplace to burn wood in
She looked at me and said straight:
“Joe, not us.”

At that moment
My passion for her blossomed
Into a thousand year old tree
Her honesty and immediate awareness of it
Made me understand one of her truest qualities
Willow looked at me
And I looked at her
And Lily, behind Willow, looked at me
And for nearly the whole ride home
I could hardly contain myself
From devouring with passion
The entire essence of Willow
Her full beauty as a strong Woman
Who had chosen to share space
With me, a dusty traveler,
And every time I looked at Lily
Bundled in tightly behind Willow with sleepy eyes
I burst into laughter I never knew I had.

When we arrived home
And put Lily to sleep
We walked down to the river’s edge
Where we had first kissed
And sat for a long time
Together, under blankets
Watching as the moon slowly made its arch
High up into the Autumn sky,
There were no words that needed to be said
Because we spoke so fluently in silence
And we leaned backwards
Falling into the web above
Twinkling back at us in dreams,
Sharing every secret we ever had.

part XXIII

Search O’Er Lain Land (day 1590)

Glen to glen
I’ve wandered brooks
Searching for my
Crag with a hook

Little, though
My hearts dismay
Could effort swing
Precipice lay

For o’er lain land
My hoof she ran
Like orphaned seeds
Autumn’s light breath

Dagger be given
To the laughing lady
High atop as a
Clever tight rock

For no path could be laid
No gorge to ford
No eye to twinkle
Amidst sun-lit wrinkle

Now guide thee home
Pulse in thine known
I hear the clean broom
And dear Mother’s boom

20150825 - Monashees Mushroom Picking - Ned Tobin - 19

Fix a Heart (day 1496)

Did I turn my heart around?
Did I let it lay me down?
Did I voyage, far, across this world
To be my Maiden’s crown?

One could surely fix a heart
Upon a stone so sound;
Let it beat, unto the end!
A thousand kingdoms strong.

And if dark night should come upon
A light that was so bright,
We’d know it as the beacon so
That guided us onward home.

To look upon the sheets so clean,
The pearls so radiant!
A lover who had never shied,
Never chance nor desire to lament.

For as my edge of feelings sought
The tender touch of her wings,
Supine be my heart for her,
My lover’s breath always unspent.

2015.06.11 - Audrey Hipturn - deneot foto - 1
Model: Audrey Hipturn Photo Source: www.deneot.com

Ashram Day 3 (day 1406)

Rain has a tendency to wash away all thought,
To make tomorrow clean and unmistakeably fresh.
Somewhat similar to every morning,
When waking up,
To accept daylight as if a young child;
New life and chance upon a path
Joined together with some answers,
Some direction,
And much more desire and openness
To find the next step forth.

As tears roll down sunlight’s fingers,
Only self can find shade
To silence what always will be
Into motionless innocence
That plays along the shore
With buckets full of sand.

Dropped from a Thorn (day 941)

How do you love without losing
Without spreading open hearts and tears
Like eyes closing, it’s ending in silence
And personal crushing sinks in

But I, the monster, sinking it in
Scream out like bats whipping through night air
A full moon lurks beyond vision
Unknown and omnipresent; thoughts and sight

Writing my love letters
With blood dropped from a thorn
Splattering into a vial
Collected for these poems

I do not remember or recall
Or recede into a sheltered abyss
I do not wash my skin clean
But I am purity, spread open and sheen

Or Is It? (day 4)

Perhaps this is just a bout;
An uncontrollable, weather related
Matter, which my body will soon
With my comfort in mind
Correct itself of
Leaving me screaming for joy
Like the horrible acting
Of a clean laundry commercial

Or maybe I’m getting a cold..