being

Poem – Silent Awakening

Summer. Days of long hot sun,
the wind scorching exposed skin
and throwing sand and twigs everywhere.

Summer. Early mornings when the sun
first reaches above the pine tree tops
and the light squirms its way through
openings in the pole barn roof, tapping
on closed eyes. Slowly the whippoorwill
across the seasonal creek is heard and
the acorns hitting roof every time
the wind arrives.

Summer. Afternoon storms that build
and tower above the flight paths
of airplanes, the silent clouds
with layers of colors, various shapes,
and ever-changing patterns.

Before the storms arrive as the sky darkens,
I am serenaded by the whispering pine
and the silent awakening of not being alone,
of having a connection with the earth
and to each tree providing shelter.

Poem – Beneath the Surface

I keep it within reach
just beneath the surface.

It is always awake with eyes
open watching me and ready

to arise at the simplest command
always there beneath the surface.

Time has not soften the beast.
Time has not taken away the power.

Over and through the years
I have learned to control

when the beast arises
the appropriate moments to step aside.

Poem – Rain

When my mind becomes scattered,
when each of the thoughts I held
in my core is lost to the wind,
I seek out answers and resolutions
from the natural world.

On mornings when the grey sky
covers the sun and the forest
lives in its own green exterior,
the cold air lays upon the skin,
and you know that rain is near.

Each drop a fragment of some
larger being or existence beyond
this world and my body reacts to the cold
by reassembling the core and bringing
this being back into a whole form.

Poem – The Fragments We Keep

Eyes open to the blackened sky.

I find myself on scattered rocks.

Cold waves wash over me as I struggle to remember.

Ravens call across the bay.

In the distance a portal opens and for the first time in years I feel hope.

Ravens now carry the fragments I desire to keep.

Poem – Existence

The dirt road lined with pine and poplar
exists in familiar land and on the map,
but standing here beneath the northern sky
as the cool wind brushes the lake,
I am without time or space.

In moments where I become aware
of my contact with the earth,
does it matter where I exist
physically when everything else
I am is scattered to the sea,
the sun, and the stars?

Poem – Emerging

Emerging from the forest
through the last barrier of this life,

beasts of the past intertwined with shadows
roam through the open field playing out their purpose.

Standing out of their way as
I am a visitor passing to the next life.

Crossing the field I am met
by concrete and metal machines.

Is this my next life
or only a preview of the coming revolution?

Smoke fills the darkened sky.

I forget where I am.

The field merges with the horizon.

Beasts disappear – were they even real?

Trees bend and in unison lift me from the field.

Passing through smoke filled dreams of the past or future
I emerge at the base of granite peaks.

Poem – Preparing

I watch the sun fall into the earth
and the forest retreat into the shadows.

I watch ravens make one last flight this day
and the fields consume the rising moon.

I try to take hold of today
and let go of tomorrow.

But I know changes are near
and that we are not alone.

Poem – Merging Scenes

Evening clouds cross the open fields,
consuming empty space and trees.

We watch their fluid movements
and changing colors as the sun sets.

Each passing moment like snowflakes
and we struggle to take all of this in.

fullsizerender

 

img_4251

Poem – Searching for Myself

Stopping at the green gate and the snow covered driveway, the pine trees embrace the winter sky and the morning light, shadows reach across the space between tree trunks.

Too much Time has passed since the last visit and the space feels foreign. While I remember the name of each tree, I hope the ravens remember me as they circle nearly out of sight, their call still echoes through the forest, the only other voice heard above the winds’ song.

Packed snow crunches with each step. Brown pine needles blanket the white surface, untouched except the many deer tails weaving through the trees, reaching beyond what I can see.

The sun’s intensity warms tired bones and muscles. The wind directs eyes up as the treetops sway against the cloud-free winter blue.

Each breath tastes of nature. Each breath brings me back. Each breath brings me closer to a chance meeting with god.

2017-02-12-09-56-29

2017-02-12-11-45-13

2017-02-12-10-26-05

2017-02-12-10-28-27

2017-02-12-10-44-10

2017-02-12-10-44-47

2017-02-12-11-45-13

Poem – Shifted Wolves

From the collection “Beyond the Border Kingdom“.

(1)

In dreams
the white wolf
stands beside
the black wolf

Emerging from
unnamed star fields
walking across
a bridge of light
against gravity
against laws of physics.

I felt no fear.
I felt no fear.

Distant galaxies
produce and consume
light.

Skewed and shifted
before arriving here
and matter we cannot see
fills the space.

This universe
spirals further
from the beginning
stretching into
unknown space
at speeds we
cannot fathom
beyond the traditional
rules we theorized
from the variables
we created.

The universe spirals further
from the beginning
around a black hole –

gathering light
gathering matter.

At the event horizon
pink cubes gather strength.

(more…)