Shovel, Shovel
Long and Lean
“Why in the ground of The Garden
Are you buried?”
“To keep The Puppy
From digging up Pere*.
I must dig in and guard the grave
As the Morning Glories climb up
And the Sunflowers bloom above.
I must stand vigil
Until the worms are through
And then I can go back to being
A shovel too…”
*Peregrine was our oldest chicken
I shed a tear
for the Violin
or should I say
her sweet straining strings
drew the anguish
welling up inside of me and
plucked out a tear as the
soprano sang an irish ode to
the love she’d let go
…as I had today
lost a beloved
pet
I wept as the string sang
to me the Eulogy
that was kept from me
by a busy day
of burying her and
then driving to the concert
where I
shed a tear
for the violin
The River’s Genesis
Comes from the tears of the gods
Crying with Joy
At the birth of her power!
She will change everything she touches.
Men will bow and beg to drink from her.
Villages spring up everywhere
She returns to fill the valley.
She is the great changer
of Mountains and molehills.
She
Takes the
Shape that
Suits Her
She disappears when conditions aren’t in her favor.
She is fierce
And will swell with deadly force
When threatened. She accepts the form
Of the vessels that bring her calm.
She is
Transformative
She is transforming.
She is Beautiful!
Just like you.
Two Hawks
Crisscrossed
Above my Head
Little Robin
Giving chase
Screaming with dread!
“Why is it
You are crying
My darling little hen?”
“THE FALCONS TOOK
MY SLEEPING CHICK RIGHT
OUT OF OUR LITTLE DEN!”
The Desert
The Desert Hills
The Desert Hills are calling me
Dark Mesa
Called the Pedernal
Whose proud form has stood
Damn near eternal,
Watches over the sand stone cliffs
Across the valley as sage scents drift
From the scorched earth
Of a July day on Piedre Lumbre
In search,
In search, of
Bronze Amulet
To give to my love as an Anniversary gift.
None have I found
That is up to the task.
Most are unworthy
A facade, a mask.
Not the malleable mettle that makes up our love.
None that protects like a shield forged from above.
No patina to show that through thick and thin
We’ve endured the onslaught from without and within.
No, our love deserves
Much more recognition
Than a candle stick or
A dime store trinket.
Yes, our love endures
In Re-creation.
We wear our Bronze
On Our Hearts
In Our Spirit.
How do you find your center when everything is dropping out from under you? When gnihtyreve is backwards? Take a deep breath remember that you are a drop of water, on a molten rock, spinning around a ball of fire that is being pulled into a singularity. You Are Here ^
Can I escape my inner me? Only if I take to the woods with thee. Where I must bathe in dirt and soake in sap. Where the air is so thin that I must breathe it again and again and again. Where butterflies mate and meet by the lake; fly up to the meadows to lay their little eggs on the purple and sage flowers that the caterpillars like to eat until they get fat and climb into the trees to turn into goo and then something new. To return once again to the lake to mate. They gather like scales on the dragon’s back, reflecting yellow and black like the sun on a stack of golden tiles that fly off now and again with the wind. They send my thoughts to the deer that disappear and appear out of the bush when you didn’t know where to look and see them standing right there in front of me. A Buck and three Does, a family so it seems, they fly off through the bush with a bound that makes no sounds and disappear into the beams of the sunset. So, yes I say I can escape with this outer Me when I spend time in the woods living this life with these — My Family.
Osprey
Osprey
Soaring
so
High
Osprey
Osprey
Preying
with
Eyes
Set
so
Sharp
as
to
See
Small
Movements
Only
the
Lucky
Will
Escape
This
Moment