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: motivation
Twice
I’ve walked twice through this field
The first time was to clear
What had taken hold of my empty thoughts
The second pass was to remind myself
Of each burden I had come to lift,
Of all obstacles I have seen come and then go,
Of muscles and sinue of my body that has once been broken or sore
And now which holds me strong,
Of grasses and trees I have been graced to come to know,
Of each changing season that has changed my soul
Just as one changes their choice in clothes,
And when I returned to the spot I had started from
For I knew where I had come from
I knew I was once again
A changed man never to return
To the same footsteps I had just walked.
Wooden Chest
My hands of sawdust
Leaked thin oil of care
A blade beginning to dull
Against wood lacking edge
Thought I could not hold
Escaped my singing lips
Towards this mother wisdom
Inside my wooden chest.
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.
Weathered Sentinel
I am not a ghost
I am a sentinel
Standing tall, proud
Weathered as I squint
Strong as I brave
Even the strongest gales
That pass before my flock.
My vision is far beyond
As stars, far above
Twinkle in clear moonlight
And I, weathered sentinel
Humbly remind mine ever quest.
Lost Sun Wolf
Land is enough
So why do I hold
So close to my being
This building of plans
Future visions
Amounting to more stacks
Of unread books?
To see, to breathe,
To smells deeply
As I stand patiently
Watching grass blow
And clouds roll.
I try to explain
Why wolf culls are horrific,
Why medicating healthy
Is sponsored iotrogenics.
But the scroll keeps
Dragging attention
Through foreign landscapes
And cute puppies,
Into weddings of strangers
And good times
I’ve seen before
In beer commercials.
It’s ok
Because it’s too much
To take in
Especially all at once.
So I stand here,
Void of that voice
Realizing deeply
Just like setting sun
That I will be forgotten soon
And tomorrow
Which will always come
Will be another day
To try.
Silent Darkness
Friggart bore
Into silent darkness
Death to all
Thy left behind
Pride and stripped
Tunneling
Voiceless throats
Remain forevermore
Gathered strength
Clenching teeth
Soot and grime
Machine will grind
Until each burr
Buries itself
Into dried blood
Of all that whore
Let it remain
Of Gods who speak
Leave it forever
Of who shall sink
Whithered and lonely
Threatened and scared
Silent darkness
Unmoving hands
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
Patching
So maybe instead of you
I seek a me.
I fuss about my collar
And chop at my hair,
Wax off my new boots
And make sure
I’m not seen
With those patched pants on
Anymore.
Maybe I resist
By rewiring.
Maybe I divert
By running away.
Maybe I control
My impulses
By sending absolutes
To my nerve endings
So my digits
And elbows
Don’t move towards
My patch jobs.
Maybe I don’t remind myself anymore
About the things I never had,
Maybe I just lie in bed a little longer
Instead of reaching for dreams that aren’t mine.
Maybe I stop smoothing out the rough patches
For I think with better light
They might be my mountain tops,
Or maybe they’re the friction
That helps me down the road.