The boundary between the empty field
and the old pine forest

transports me from the confines of my mind
into the ancient memories of childhood.

Walking between the giants,
they hold up the sky

as I listen to each one
and feel the warmth rising from the earth.

They were here before me
and they will stand above me when

the final day of the this life arrives
and I prepare for the next.

Heart of winter is ironic
as nothing moves in this cold

there is no hot blood though veins
keeping extremities alive.

As I stand frozen on the patio
even my breath escapes slightly

before the immortalized
words hang in the air.

There is a shift in what you see when
the clearest blue sky collides

with white coated earth, what should
be a defined boundary, with definitions

and delineations, wavers and moves.

It is frighteningly easy to give up hope and lose a sense of place and purpose when the earth is scorched and the people are lost. Miles and oceans separate lives, cultures, borders, and tragedies. Arbitrary definitions aim to keep lines drawn and natural tendencies in check, but this only suppresses the internal instincts, the desire to fight, the need for hope – prolongs the true being which walks the ridge-line, getting closer to the shift.

The evening sky reflects the fields of glass, the desert sands, the tropical rain forest, the calving glaciers – a mirror of processes beyond our control digging deep, removing us from the present day, existing beyond time and distance when the connections and energy between everything was more clear and made sense.

The evening sky is an eye turned inward, focusing light on our true being and the threads we all share, the bonds we must strengthen and the call we must listen to as the sun sets and the darkness descends across the fields.

An Eye
An Eye

The following is an excerpt from the upcoming book “Beyond the Border Kingdom”.


I look over the empty sea
void of waves and ships
and imagine you walking from the horizon
toward me, gaining shape
and definition, yet still
a shadow, a faceless being
that I have attached the label of “you” to
but my reality is I do not know who you are
and I have no fear or reason to flee.

Closer the shadow comes as
the sun emerges across the boundary
and the shadow is swallowed in light
and I slip from here before knowing.

The border defining a boundary
the line between worlds, realms,
our consciousness
exists only in our minds
a projection of the hardship
we impose, we feel, further
defined and limited
by action or inaction.

The Border
The Border

Silver-Bay-2009-12-31 450

If I say I am without boundary,
how will you define me?

If I say I do not hear the words you say,
am I still listening?

If I look eastward,
whose direction is it?

If I swing my arm through the air,
are you the only one feeling the movement?

I exist here – distinct from
the willow tree and the lotus, yet
our paths cross when I see the
sun’s reflection and the moon’s shadow.

A dew drop glistens on
the elongated blade of grass.

I suspend them in time
through empty mind
free of other objects
the dew drop exists here
near my fingertips and
the moons light
within my palm.