Saturday, November 22, 2008

coiled

on my walk...
out in that golden time once more
my thoughts swimming in the air
a million miles away
walking that winding path
with the warm light
around trees and mountains
following it to that dreamed of place
my hand on the gate
Shangri La

In passing, a greeting
a person I know
(rarely happens)
words and ideas tossed back and forth
filling the air between us
we part, going our separate ways
each taking away their own tangle of thoughts

Quietly
I try to return to that gate
but the path is lost
in the darkening sky
and the labyrinth inside

seen
that land of honey
where golden light fills the air
pouring down my skin

Friday, November 21, 2008

ancient

sometimes to find a certain calm
I imagine myself
slipping into the earth
down through layers of dirt, rock,
to find myself
surrounded
completely
a constant pressure
on every part of me
condensed to the essential
carbon into diamond

[diamond : Ancient Greek - "invincible", "untamed"]

(funny thing is, I've never cared for diamonds....
preferring colour)

Thursday, November 20, 2008

shapes

Express Lane
Is this search futile?
but I am left to wonder
rushing through my day

(It is not futile, I know.
But it is easy to lose sight
when you're pushed and pulled
constantly forward
throughout the day,
ready or not,
stop.)

connection
I know the kind of place that draws me
and I would never tire of—
a place I don't think I've been to yet
this life
but I have impressions, ideas,
suggestions, hints,
in places I have visited
never fully realized
I have lived in this place before
I remember
the ocean, a large sky, a place with shapes,
colour, light, a sense of age about it,
people as part of and one with the landscape -
but not the whole landscape
a place to get lost in

I cannot share any more of this right now.

resonance
I am the lone star
that pierces the twilight sky
with a wild fierce light

while I sing to you

with vibrating radiance
the notes long and low


(Where did this all come from tonight—
I have no idea.)

when I look...

eyes open
insight, sharp and clear
not able to escape it
I am overcome

peace
I have cut adrift
dreaming in my freedom, on
cold ocean currents

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

scattered sleep

waiting
a colourless sky
just before the sunrises
slow blush of lemon

nap
in a dark hallway
a patch of sun on the floor
curled up like a cat

Scattered today
the list of music I listened to before noon
would make the head spin
my focus is fractured
temporary
I need to save the late nights for the weekends....

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

I have never poured out so much,
let the door open so wide.......

gone

I felt the need to walk on a beach today.
A long march that would take me beyond
the farthest point my eyes could see.
It could be a warm day—nice,
but a steel grey, cold, windy day
has it's own attraction.
The wind isolates you in your own world,
closing you off.
You become lost in it,
and a part of it.
Cold rain on your skin,
waves crashing in your chest
wind rushing from your eyes.
Leaving nothing
but you,
your thoughts
and a constant flood on your senses.

When you do return—
through spoken word,
an open door,
it is like jumping into a pool of warm water.
The world is silent
and you are removed.
A part left outside with the wind.

this search for words to define...
as if one combination,
one arrangement
of words
will be a key
or
the sword
that cuts the Gordian knot
setting me free


island
standing in a storm
I am removed from the world
waves break on my shore

(from my walk...)
grey
brushed across the sky
like dancing shadows of flame
the clouds change quickly

Monday, November 17, 2008

harvest

runaway
the words come to me
without my pen and paper
and I cannot stop

warp
I feel I am always
chasing the receding light
suspended in time

stroll
a javelina
wandering across the road
delicate as glass

thin
though I raced the sun
the twilight was long tonight
the day stretched thin

These are from my evening walk.
They start soon after I walk out the door.
There feels an urgency to this,
not to let these impressions slip away.
As if I would lose a part of who I am.
Is that what I am doing—
Gathering up pieces of myself?

Sunday, November 16, 2008

dirt trails & contrails

Trails
walk meditation
each step connects me to the earth
taking my heart home

Yet, at the same time
I can get lost in the sky
and I know it well

not crazy...distracted

Squeeze
No, I cannot think
voices swirl around my head
thought and words dissolve


"Get thee out!"
(The mountains call.)