Bending Backs (day 2513)

Another day we wait as it rains
A day to refresh the sun
Our tents blow their fresh layer of spray
Upon our bending backs
And our boots slop through the mud
As we putter about what’s become familiarly ours
Yet our eyes cease not their yearn
For the forest upon field’s edge
A forever shifting natural escape
Winding its way through this new season
As our tired hands find their way
Along new lines of worn wood
Waiting for its new home.

The Bane of Fullness (day 2470)

I don’t want to hold onto this enormous feeling.
A Skeptic once said the past isn’t present,
So let us believe that a fullness isn’t real
(A limit we reach where we can no longer give, share, believe),
Let this feeling take us on a tenderness stroll
Like sheer cotton shading giant pillows we lounge upon,
Meandering through ancient streets and wild forests
Where we stop at every third park bench we pass
To sit closely and pretend we’re still consciously speaking
In syllables that reason can understand and explain,
For to me your words speak in gestures only my ears
– And perhaps the dear sweet Cupid who so cleverly pinned us –
Can fully grasp at, mingled so heavily with vibrant lips
My eyes cannot escape being entranced by,
And breath mine hairs can feel so warmly upon
With your gentle yet firm fingers ever so delicately
Squeezing a new pattern into mine palm of eternity.
I want to hold onto you, the back of your neck with softest of curls
As our lips mean to share what we’ve intoned of a feeling,
Forgetting for brief moments our shooting star madness
And living a while longer by the bane of our senses.

Awake Seed (day 2450)

Who falls awake at night
Who lets the dreams stay away
Who brings the evening deep inside
Furrow brows some more

Who has time to wish away
Pine tree growing on the land
Little death beside a hearth
Rose denied its breath

Let wisdom become silence here
To tired awake at night
Needles upon the forest floor
In a hand, a growing seed

River Bed Flow (day 2414)

Let the river bed flow
I want the world to know
You can hear ol’Gray Bird
Doesn’t matter what season
Doesn’t matter what time
I want the world to know
Shouting out loud
In a forest around here
Alive with rounding music
Hardly lonesome while dreaming
By the river bed swimming
I want the world to know
Carry me on, carry me home

Mae Rim Thailand

Your Histories (day 2286)

I can only hold my breath
As waves of anxiety pass through me
Butterflies emanate so powerfully
From my being
Sunshine becomes hard to see
I cannot count to ten or listen
I cannot comprehend noises
Conversation becomes lost
In an inaudible sea of thought
That has found me here
Floating around your island
Out beyond the breakers in the sea;
A picture on the wall
That leaves me awe-struck
Star struck, but not star-struck,
Star struck that makes me remember
Your kindness that laughed at me
Your eyes that watched with me
Your silence that became excited with me
And your being that is
A remarkable being
A being that should rest upon silk robes
Effortlessly moving through a sea of pillows
That supports your every wish
With decadence and consideration
And space that gives you time
To remember the histories
That you have always been,
And love that has never been forgotten
In a book written long ago
Bound with two ribbons:
One of forest green,
The other of gray.

Ode to a Pine (day 2281)

Needles so long and fragrant that
You set into my dreams
And close around my open spaces
With essence of the forest.
I notice that your feet are so
Sandy, enjoying the soil
I’d like to join you, kick back, relax
Grow so strong and freely here.
I shan’t be quick to cut you down
I shall resist unto the end
So that your life outlives my own
Respecting one another’s deep wisdom.

Sunset Field (day 2238)

There’s something here
Deep beneath heavy cigar smoke
And calming chatter of birds
Scattered amidst surrounding forest,
Fields ahead.
A woodpecker finds a hidden beetle
And mosquitoes my soft spots
Along this horizon vista
Of melding clouds
Half lift sunset brown
Leaning on golden white,
Half darkening blue
Of midsummer showers
Layered above the strait.
Couples lazily walk soft beach sands
Hand in hand
Creating memories I still have
That I douse in smoke,
Picnic benches of an earlier gaiety
Sit empty like grazing sheep
Full from a full productive day.
Elm trees, tall and proud
Find last bits of gold
Sun, cooling, has to share.
My lungs find air of a new found density
Promising foliage a cool drink
Bringing an air of calm
Beckoning me: surrender
Depth of heavy breath
As I rock my comfort back and forth
To a tune I’ve not yet written
In cigar dust of sunset field.