Sands cover the landscape spewing steam.
The vast ocean surfaced with the grains I have discarded.
Passing through dimensions and space and time.
Passing through all matter.
I wait here on the rocky shores.
The shores of an unnamed planet.

What we have spans time.

I know beyond what the immediate senses are telling me
that you will soon emerge from the depths and upon
recognizing my presence, we can walk into the sunset
bordered by two moons.

beach clouds dawn dusk
Photo by Josh Sorenson on Pexels.com

Standing on the front porch
I watch the sun rise over the

distant mountains and first light
run across the empty fields.

Morning wind pushes scattered stalks and coffee steam
while bird songs emerge from the tree line.

High bulbous clouds assume many colors
as the sun reaches higher.

Leroy lays at my side sleeping
as we watch night become the day.

Spring has filled in the once barren forest
and we witness the green waves rolling
toward the blue horizon.

What we have spans time,
existing without place,
breathing with each ray of light,
captured in morning waves.

New poem from the “Beyond” series.


I awake covered in red dust
after the storm passed.

In the depths of the crater
the sun shone dimly over the edge.

I see you left without me
moving beyond the fractured surface.

There is no blame.
There is now only me.

Beyond the mountains
the sun rises on a new day.

Surrounded by unnamed peaks,
unclimbed by humans, I head off into the void.

Against an evening sunset
and blue backdrop a pair of ravens
circle, descend, and ascend a last time
before landing in pine trees beginning to green
as the last holds of winter give.

Clinging to limbs as the winds
arrive in gusts from across the lake
they call to others a few trees over
and we watch this conversation take place.

April sunrise over the calm water
a slow dance of light across the surface.
this path now appearing after minutes lost in the
subtle voice of nature opens a watery
light encased portal that is my chance to leave this world.