A nation celebrates its coming of age, with explosions and beautiful light; the border collies insist that a war has begun.
Her dark fingers reach through deep dreams and throw spiderling threads around our hearts – citybound far too long. The silk draws us close to Her green forested body. We desire the air that smells primal, like black earth – like rushing snowmelt – and banks chilled silver in evening’s last light. I dream again […]forest, poetry
How many frost-crisp mornings have I watched them in my beloved Northern Valley? Not nearly enough, I can tell you. Ruefully I count them on fingers and not hands. My first sparking thought springs, involuntary …they are electric! Grizzled follicles emit a rolling, bristling energy that can’t be described any other way. I’ve had, always, […]
Early this morning, deep inside, I discovered an image of Luna, our lovely moon. I found it completely by surprise from within a steel pod; a spaceship surrounded by the loud, shuttering sound of magnetic pulses; a needle buried in my vein. Compression, contrast, a hot cold flash of iodine flowing through tributaries, quicksilver, radiant […]breasts, moon
These waters arrive in mythic proportion to test and teach us, to discover our depth. Beneath those rushing floods are scribed the letters of who we are at the heart of our matters. Each night we submerge, limbs and lips locked, we rise again as one. Strengthened, joined, by the whispered words we find flowing […]