Heaven's Endless Body

There is no control of the skies
he shouted
flying high
If my shadow could only see
me now
He thought
as I turn to see my shadow
moving my heart past myself
to share our passing

I fly into her smile
And I am by my blood
a relic of light found
left behind energy
conscious, a ghost
still dragging time
as I turn to see her
my heart moves past itself
am I to be my blood
or a relic of light 
conscious of energy
heaven's endless body
or a ghost dragging time?


.

The rumbling tone of creation

fashioned tones from
under a brilliant night sky
where has always been
that first
star
the oldest musical
instrument
rumbling the tones of creation

..

The sun hands over its dress

in pieces
perfectly  misplaced on a world
made of danger and weight 
spun without drying

there Spring is swerving
on its forgotten journey and here 
Fall through with the green
landscape once rich and raging
now fades into the nuance
between conversations

.

Don't You Know

We fall like dancing stars
springing back into time
holding the hands of reason
we let go of so completely
because noticing
it's harder to worry

Me, an admirer
as I think I am of stars I cannot see
moving in ocean waves
that sparlke the sky with the feet and
hands they lack

.

Stripped by the falling sky

Thought
knowable only to angels
at the edge of the sky
over the heartbreaking silence
a bolt across the firmament

And I stumble and fall over
a question - and you ease back
through my pores, the way love wrestles through
impenetrable people

Like pulling forward space
the moon cries behind her cloudy
eyes and peering through the haze
the earth begs to be caressed
by her floating body  

Stripped by a fallen sky
her white earth lies dead
bare with pale volcanoes
a dimly lit salted sphere
without a memory of life
she is everything


 .

ING

And in the vastness and truth
of who we are
waits the unfolding now blue sky
Our form through tournaments of old
still warm and grand

She was born with morning inside
her in the early spring
as light fell down
through the cool thin gaps

Does eternity have an end
for this poem?


..

It's October Again

and Collapsing tunnels loom
dimming the light
but we are here, not there
we who still move, still move somehow

and Boldly press on with love in layers
through fields rapt with romance
past collapsed tunnels
through openings that began as cracks
we make ourselves make our way
into the truth like finding revelation within a novel
while waiting beneath the desert
a flowerbed lies dreaming with a persistence
we once knew


.
.

Then heaven sent flowers

Then heaven sent flowers
to the living huddled
below a well centered moon
and out from a crater you rose

Get up said the air with its song
but the hard lake in the window
still flirted with the sandy notions in my mind  

And with all her strength the shore scratches to
and she so wonderful and wise
goes off somewhere

The day continued only sure of spreading morning throughout
the hills and trees
so silently it happens over and over
heaven casting her wide kiss
as in secret we prepare for night
and dreams
sometimes so red and strange
until the new light on an eve falls
and you return from somewhere deep inside the
the dark woods
and I'm so happy you're here
.

There's No Place Like Driving

a world of street
ghost beggars twists into
morning

And inside every car
emotions and glass swim
together in sighting dawn

in trying to understand the fire
and which side of me its on
and that we live here inside a question
and how you're more important
than the answer


.

How Now Was Ever Made

powerful as the open air   
yet still wading against
the shimmering night

"I'll paint the night black again"
maybe he didn't say this

I wonder what it would take
to feel the indifferent forms of me
breaking through the brittle bark of the tree to
breathe freely through myself knowing nothing is really here
except the smallest drop of rain god ever made






.

Each time it happens

Breathing to love
dancing in the low light
the moon drops

Painting with our arms
lazy shadows stretched
out across the sky
Our wings melt the sun


.

A Toast

To our backwards failed escape
endlessly looking backwards at the shiny
grey zeroes of infinity
the temperature weeps
in slow degrees to season
the anonymous days
suffocating with old ideas
old purpose

All directions and all paths
an afternoon
groping for
an end and a beginning

We kept trying, and finally
cleared the frost of
vocabulary
And like pulling open a curtain
discovered that a promise was
almost enough

.