young winter

I see a ghost- such pale gold sun-

through a shroud of maudlin gray

when winter yet so very young

and hung like shadows over day

and I followed into the west

on chariot of misinvention

the flat face glow above attests

a captive of  brave intentions

the journey to a home not home

and a restless pause in the night

when life is a rust covered poem

and I drown in the urge to write

a tale of hearts and flowered seeds
of spirit sown in hungered needs 

wrapt...

Counting stars in Moonless night

bright nebulae afloat, flow

like prayer candles on the Ganges

when lives of love make a stream sacred 

and like the time of remembering

I look into the empty places of my spirit

once filled by so many loves

and though I have lost them,

they are with me still, felt as now

when silent stars make thoughts known, 

spoken in low tones, my blessings glow

to resonate in fine strings…

time has wrapt around my heart

a sudden season

Winds lift bamboo

like brushes painting air

peach blossoms flurry

to fill a moment with pink and white,

like snow and butterflies

a sudden season at odds with itself

strikes a note of beauty.

Words tumble, I lean to hear

then you are silence behind a closed door,

a mystery in hiding, yet wonder- could we

sharing words, salt grains of love and pain, be

in more discord than a rain of petals

Perhaps lost amidst moon and shadow

or found in an eclipse of fluttered eyes

graze like some soft wings of summer

I would speak softly in breaths of calm

recall heart memories, to invite  

the healing powers of touch.

Friday night lights

Crowned in softness, a found

delight  simply in the sight, soft

half moons for eyes, starlight

in warm smiles; she orbits a dance floor.

Later, when rushed by chilled air,

my upward glance through a milk of cloud

as half Moon filled the center of night.

Drove in a silence, moments of

vivid thought, fresh memory

‘neath silver and sepia tinge in the west

then changed route to see her better

‘til she fell into next morning’s rain.

I searched seeking west

and thought her gone, lost again;

on one plane – a disappointment,

on another- an ore of a deeper vein:

when I lost my Moon... Drove-on

as music blurs man-made stars, lights

in commerce, glow of foods and bars

and then as if the wish I would not speak

released from theft by red clay sky

she came back to me, radiant and ever new

beauty I have seen, yet never quite this way

when journeys of the heart find nowhere to turn

and the moment rises when the will

becomes faith, and the soul whispers

its prayers.

in wonder

Sun low in the west

bright flame in clear sky

fills green treetops and sets aglow

all within squint pinched apertures.

Warm skin, cheeks reflect

like the sandy face of the Moon;

a lesser satellite to be sure,

I spin with a wide world.

Held inside, a universe

churns to the energy of a life:

as great or little as a thing can be.

Today within a moment lost, I watch me

as if a bubble on the sea-- its lightest hold

on water, air, and time--

and wonder  if it knows

the perils and beauty of its existence.