Slowly into Tea

I wish I could cry on the good days
when my tea is softly spoken
and each of my windows
have snow lightly dancing,
exploring my imagination
in waxing crescent arising.

So it’s said my moon is slowly rising
a wind about my sail
to calm me as I build up to
a moment of my truth.
Where do I sing from?
No microphone or recorder
follows me around
making what shall soon become
lost in a myriad of webs.

Perhaps my days are all of good;
tea awaits my silent lips
even when the sun has risen cold
and my time spent entranced in forest
are met with caribou and grouse.

So maybe the I shall speak a little,
whistle a little to my tune
that whispers it’s short breath inside
each window I look out upon
and lays my ever waxing moon
into swirl of my tea leaves
where my moment comes just as the last
a fragment to be had and gone.

Legs of a Newborn

Chilling me, my bones;
Solar vision of a home.
Leave sense alone,
For good can be struck
Gathered at
Legs of a newborn.

Forgive this faintest vision:
Whelping at green gates,
Unable to return this burden
To a rusty hand that remains
Steadlock,
A wooden helm,
For sorcery:
Electric sounds gurgle on.

Mission of lost specifics,
Vague and cold and distant offers
Scrawling deeper into well lit halls
Piano key footsteps;
I’m an anarchist loosing it
Blessed closing song
Holding a chord
Of a subtle melody
Breaking my consciousness.

Draining Memories

Though I fall far from the Pacific’s graceful shores
I swim with my head held high
Through sea-birds and sea-weeds
And crabs at my toes.

A memory I chose to keep
Brings a feather to the ground,
The wind high on snowy mountains
I can see from the shore
With city sprawl developments
Slowly creeping further West.

So I sing to the lapping
Of this cold ocean’s running tide.
My musings of a sandpiper
Leaving its webbed footprints there,
And barnacles in tidal pools
Slowly draining you know where.

River

A
I’m a mighty river
G
Blowin’ down today
F
The sky she seen me
G
My emptiness so cold

So she let er rain
All night till I drowned
Soaked every tree and shrub
Clung to my banks of rock

I roar with my head high
Every cold, cold black night
No need to set me loose
I am no eagle cry

Long ago my destiny
Was carved into the earth
Mountain streams far away
Come to me so cold

Ungracefully Lacking

Insight has lost its worth
For it no longer blesses thy journey;
It is a burden, a hex,
Pointedly accusing
And draining all chai.

How often does it rain?
Even cold grass
Does not sprout green
For it has lost its vision,
Quest departed long ago
Sun turned into mold.

Gravel roads
And sombre trees
Who no longer speak;
Dormant, sleeping, away
Unto this vision
Cold and ungracefully lacking.

In Calling (day 3156)

The Devil came to the house today
He knocked with three raps at the door
A long cold shudder filled the room
All knowing the impending doom.
We looked each other in the eye
Not sure which of us was to answer,
So finally I stood up to go
Amicably respond upon the threshold.
Each step I took echoed down the hall
Cold stone that now creaked and groaned.
I saw upon the mirror adjacent
To the threshold to whence I went
My reflection so scarcely visible
Trembling amidst my very bones.
Slowly, as if knowing the worst to come
I rotated the door handle slowly down
And opened up the door to see
Who had knocked three raps in calling me.

Come Close (day 3103)

I don’t know how to tell you I love you anymore
For every way I know of has been told.
There’s no light I haven’t seen you amicably in,
No space I haven’t felt your soul in,
No memory I haven’t found
Where I’d thought you don’t belong
And my song’s always filled with your name.
But the days that pass
Are filled with an unmistakable void
That is you not being here by my side
Which silences my song to every corner of my world
And hurts me like a dying star should.
Where do I go to feel my sorrow
That hasn’t already been felt deeply so?
What path can I take that leads me astray
To a new thought upon a new day?
Where are your words that paint me pictures
Of what keeps you far off, away
To put my mind in an infinite at ease
And understanding of what furrows my brow?
So I tarry and wander
With my hands buried deep
Shaking off the cold inferno,
With my voice, hardly shaking
Reminding me always
That it’s you whom I love
So come close.