Spirit of the nuanced
The Guardian
Captures me
Subtle breath whisps escaping
Amid mornings fresh slumber,
Retreating darkness
Holding whiskers proud
Beyond horizon’s line;
An unfurling, curling
One here, one there
Among different sized lobes
Each a maze of geometry
So uniquely theirs
It’s a geneological foodbank
Each year in passing.
Calmness of inanimate objects
Sitting patiently waiting use
Though no forseen future demands
Their attention.
Sweet parent-birds
Fly hither and tither
Dusting tops of every perch
Fighting for their moment
To build their grass nest more home like.
It is within this deep being
That the Guardians arrive
No trumpeting, no blooming,
Just tingling sensations
Arising from an inner cleft
Of my seeking heart
Wedged between a desire to think
And a greed to be done thought;
An unknown state
Of neither solid nor liquid
A gelatin, oozing down my spine
And into my belly
Dancing to a tribal rhythm section
Continually beating
And beating
And uplifting my observations
Like a lost feather
Caught in a spiral.
Is this seek or search?
Are eyes wide open
Even during sleep time dreaming?
Does water still run
When my hand doth not provide
Ripples for its current to take?
For in this lost world
A game that hath not unfolded
Shall our minds be awake
To feel and hear each luminensce
A shining depth for soul language
Hidden within our own Glorian?
Shall we know so deeply
Without language or reason
To guide our knowing
Or maybe we call it
More appropriately
Guiding our understanding
Or better yet
Shall we call this quest
Simply a Glorian.
Category: agape
Planting an Orchard
Six steps
Apple tree
Compost on top
Upper Field
Each word only spoke to who I used to be
Hitting me with sadness I hadn’t felt in so long
Memory, an idle passtime we cannot live without
Like each deep line slowly growing across my body
And each sun setting beyond the upper field
Pink and golden and blue as it be
A feather of mine that once flew me
In wind I now see as ghosts
Of who I used to be.
Winds
Winds so softly blow against
Open breath of my morning
Definitely Arctic air
Lingering in it’s breadth
Curling around me as if to say
You are home, welcome,
And good morning to you Sir.
For me, it is as an alarm
Awake before I’m called
A sign I am still early
For a fresh day to my face.
Greeting, Sun
Greetings, Rooster
Greetings, fresh grass
Greetings, Wind
I am ready for today.
Silence Sail
I silenced my mind
To no prevail
A hope
That did unrail
And awoke myself
To orchard grass
Slowly loosening my veil
Then all at once
A rhythm began
Slowly filling my sail.
Locus on my Mind
A locus on my mind;
Two dollars and fifty cents
While driving slowly in the right hand lane
Looking for a parking spot
And Grimes on the radio
Flapping wings of technicolour
Written cleanly upon the sidewalk
I am not walking upon.
Heaven yoked my thoughts;
A golden beam of sunshine
Misdirected through bubbling clouds
That cannot share my thoughts
For they speak only in winds
I cannot hear or see
Only feel upon my frowning brow
Searching for and watching
Fleeting moments of sun.
An opening emerges;
Calling with my well-let whistle
I walk alone through a quiet wooded path
Unsure but hoping
For a path to emerge
Amidst low hanging spruce branches
But weakness in my knees
Tell me that I’ve missed my chance
So I must forget the way home
And keep my eyes open wide.
Last Year’s
Birds have returned
Little ones that come and go
Just as last year’s leaves blow.
Little ones with long legs
Wandering through puddles
Picking at worms I can only guess.
Birds swimming as schools of fish would
Landing amidst unmarked field
Seeds from last year’s crop to eat.
Big black crows and ravens
Messengers flying hither and tither
Eggs to find from last year’s abandoned nest.
By Heart
A note of credible
Creative credible
Caught in a crossfire
Rapid fire with no cease fire.
And there she sat
For light poured down
Upon the holy place she did sit
And Gods spoke loudly
For light was blinding.
All around smoke poured down
Glittering against pale memories
A scene too fresh to look back upon
Ringing still tangible.
Then there was movement
Realization of a crescent
Ricochette and limbo
Like cats recently perched
In a window watching prey.
For she ruptured
Directly beneath,
From inside, outwards, upwards
Raging in brilliance
Into a new score
Unwritten by heart.
Incoherently Surrender
Whispering incoherently into my ear
I lost myself into reverie
A world I’d always dreamed of
Soaked in sweat of our lust
We were alone in our madness
Lazy summer breeze through
The teepee opening
Was this ever our together?
Calmness so saturated
In lazy sun streams forgetting
Each worry on our minds
Like watching honey drip
And the taste that’s next
To souls forever twixt
Wake me if I ever go there
I wouldn’t mind your soft nudges
Urging my response
A smile always for you, my amora
In twilight hours of our embrace
Along river banks and gurgling streams
Lost in a deep green forest
Of your old mans beard surrender
Twilight Hours
Blackness about
Silence within
Sunrise soon