blue notes for old red stars

In deep sky a trance unfolds,
a dance of ancient light;
tomorrow's rains gather
to cloak the portal to mystery
so much as in life, they do not stay.

Patient lights of an endless reach
teach me again, how delicate and small
is this form of man, how God-like the gift
of imagining.

Creation in  Six sharp notes
rest on the Seventh
as a cascade of creations
seize the front of the mind,
make blue notes for old red stars.

Making the world I would see
through eyes closed  in peace
where All value the need to bring
closeness to purpose- and know
the purpose of life, is abundant life.

Deep in the night, I cut away
the clouds that pass between
things we see and that which can be...
it is a time to swirl with galaxies unborn
and consider the virtue of a wistful tear.

sung...

I cast my love upon the face of the sea

my faith in tides and

winds I cannot see but

feel

for even thrown into emptiness

love remains, after time has withered it

into a seed. it remains, and waits

until the sweet season   

even of the fallow ground...

there is a sweet season

quiet fire

calm waters keep our dreams 
ignite them with the evening sun 
spreads quiet fire 'neath the waves 
kisses the shores again and again 
wet touches to remind, 

she is of the sea

One day 
fates will ask for proof of angels
I will hold such a moment as this 
when I reached for you with my heart 
and even the seas grew still...

the night began to glow anew
a moon of fire, for the heat
of desire also fills bent wings
of prayers and wishes

quickening...

From somewhere
the desert sky finds a tear
and as if it pretends to weep
a dryness floods the incipient verge
we are left with an urge to swallow

So it is when i notice my hands
or the innocence of my pillow
when the rumpled covers-
weary glyphs of a fitful night-
slow dreams and quickening.

From somewhere
the mind finds a memory
to heal the scar left in the night
as if lightning has torn the sky
and only darkness...can heal.

Japan (hokku)

We observe the anniversaries of the atomic bombs over Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Reminders once again that war is a failure of reason. It is a failure to be as mankind might - a rational being dedicated to honoring the great gift of life.  War and destruction have cut short millions of lives. Conflict has diverted humanity from the progress that is yet within reach: to eradicate disease, provide food, water, and an unlimited potential for abundance to all. There is sadness for what we might have been, yet hope that we have learned.

We stumble blind without the light of reason.



[Hiroshima]
rising sun-
the unforgettable...
remembered

 [Nagasaki]
rising sun-
below a man-made sun...
and its shadows

rising sun-
a deep silence follows
groaning earth

in the surf...

Waves laugh with her
leap to surround elegant arms;
sea air too holds prisms for sun
to bejewel...

my eyes capture camera
and keep her just this way
at play with a speck of a vast day
where somewhere there is birth
and sadness beyond endure
and here there is this droplet
to blend into the samba of a spinning world

A swirl of beauty held close in thought
a piece of light that travels on and on
across a deep flow of time
i've made...just for this
treasure of the sea

rain dreams...

Cold soaks pierce the calm,
feet take flight, skim rivulets;
in the sting of sweet water
running through the rain.

The meanings of spring rains take hold
grasses shed excess and concrete sieves
conform to the needs of the moment-
clouds spill and we become
the windy mix of hurry and reflex.

It should be thus, the plants and I
in a bow and revel for we all grow
in the wet and green; but so far removed
from the smell of lightning
so far distant from echoes of thunder
modern man- in leather bound feet-
cannot joyful, thrash in the
bounty of rains, not well wish each drop
for the nurture of a seed.

We cannot fathom the ultimate need,  yet we
creatures of love and fear, sea born and
in this blend of wind and popping drops;
I find a soul satisfying melody.

I listen... as I would hear wisdom of the world
I sense... as if I were a forgotten dry place
I  know my skin drinks-in this day
am soaked again in what makes me:
the water's child.

Siberian sky

suddenly we
were the dinosaurs
or the elk and deer of Tunguska
when the sky erupts and even
the air we breathe
becomes a force of reckoning

suddenly we
are those who did not listen
to voices humble and great
to truth from every place it was written

we are smaller parts of a small round world
it has neither lines nor walls, it breathes
in the glow of a cauldron in the cold deeps

suddenly we
are united as the speck on the wall
as the droplet of rain
as the flattened bug on windshield

when the sky is afire
when no single man can withstand
then, a moment that cannot be denied,
suddenly ...we





 Author's notes-

1) the Tunguska explosion
http://earthsky.org/space/what-is-the-tunguska-explosion

2) poem notes-
A meteorite over Siberia, traveling so fast its shock wave rattles
our buildings shatters glass-- and maybe shatters the blind comfort
we place in chance.  It is not certain that we could stop a life changing impact with
a rock from space...even in the movies it looks hard and needs a hero or She-ro
But it is certain that we can try,  and appreciate that everyone has a stake in
the welfare of the planet.  Everyone needs food, water, air, and a place upon which to stand--Earth is kind to us, but it wont do what only we can do to keep our toe hold on this
amazing world...hdm