Estuarine

Salty August air,
undulating aqua glass
reflects quaking heart

The Other Side of the Sun

Phone call unheeded
Glazed eyes watch emerald leaves
Solstice wanes away

Saltwater Spring

Alive, by the sea
His appetite awoken
Green waves' aroma

sorry, jesus, for letting you down

sorry jesus for letting you down
when the world turned voracious
on the teeth of dishonesty
cruelty and love proclaimed
behind hands with fingers crossed
the heart you bestowed broke
finally it could take no more
in a sidereal year of midnight
lit by prayer's occasional flare
it beat its last pulse of goodness
expiring on a bed soft as arctic brine
tasting of tears, bitter vintage
from the remains of broken dreams
the sleeper once attempted
to build in a promised garden
only to unearth the lie of love

Sandcastle

Joyful spires built on foundations
laid in bright white gold sunlight
Under a sky of ecstatic blue
growing as fast as hands
could pour the shells and quartz
Into the molds formed patiently
by eager heads and hearts
Gadding about in a newborn day
Made just for them, by them,
glistening eyes so blinded by glow
the proximity to the waves
was overlooked and unheeded
Until the sea swirled in, uninvited,
swiftly swallowing the hope
that grew along the tideline
Swept out into the breakers
leaving only marks below
a surface bearing bruised
memories that once knew
the secret at the heart of the world

Ant's Fear of Drowning

water was falling-rising
in the humid fecund dark
long before we knew
each others names
years in the underground
before her heart lit the gloom
mine knew it was love
the day she said brightly
the sound of creaking stairs
made a lonely house a home
rain fell faster than evasion
tunnels filling in a liquid rush
i retreated to my chambers
above the torrent and swirl
waiting patiently in a dark
that refused quiescence
trembling hands and feet
skimming the seep below
hoping the heart would survive
such terrible wonderful deluge

Sunday Meditation #47: I Heard the Meadowlark Sing

I heard the meadowlark sing to me

From upon a roofline high

Tall grass whispered back in chorus

Breathless upon bended knee

Azure dome of heaven

Wheaten cathedral of earth

Wind an ethereal Mass

Sunrise upon my soul

Lungs fill with coolish air

I drop my small machine

Thanks escape parted teeth

I heard the meadowlark sing to me

Magpie Tales 296: Appetites Obscura

Joachim Beuckelaer, 1560 via Magpie Tales

Incipient feast before our eyes,

Ignorant of the scandalmongers afar

of whom, it is said, do spread the truth

Anesthetized by full bellies, flushed loins

Citizen ears deafened by lust, greed, anger,

Blindly we face murderers in the bedroom

Magpie Tales 265: Miracle

Image via Magpie Tales

Our mystery came clear

upon Earth's awakening

rousing from young slumber

changing, molting, shedding skin

My golden height

Her fecund depth

Bind us to our miracle

Magpie Tales 259: This Is Not Hell

Image courtesy of Magpie Tales

"Don't walk on by,

come on in" It says,

Step right up, step inside

Trust me, I don't exist

This refulgent Carnival

is sweet, seductive Life!

Not a garish fine trick

misleading the lambs

Come, come to light!

Rest your hearts here,

friends, this is not Hell

nor are you out of it

Magpie Tales 249: Lensing

Photo by Elene Usdin, via Magpie Tales

Wary glance from supernova eyes
shining a ring around the black hole

anchoring the center of a galactic heart

It feels at a distance this lenticular caress,

bent, arcing over the interstellar chasm

separating love from fulfillment

Gravity warps, accelerates, casts out

time and distance, bright recognition

of love laying, waiting for our fall

Magpie Tales 248: Raveling

Bond of Union, 1956, by M. C. Escher, via Magpie Tales

No one warned us our love would be covalent, 

sometimes corrosive, often explosive

burning bright twining around hearts

built for comfort not for speed

whirling so fast making time run backwards

mirrors held up to each other reflective

refractive actinic addictive as gold

spinning tendrils so fine the pain unnoticed

until the sun burned out and we in the dark

howling with sweet misery of the raveling

Magpie Tales 246: Onramp

Image courtesy of Tess at Magpie Tales

Her veins aflame, burning

with panic, regret and longing

Not the parasitic draining

of buried addictions vampiric

Road rises, grips a pounding heart

making love to the pedal

She weeps, speed is never enough

to find home in the outer dark

Magpie Tales 240: Dawes County Meditation

Photo by Tom Chambers via Tess at Magpie Tales

Wide open here in God's country

That means hearts as well as range

Loneliness not the sole province of cowboys

Rim of her world defined by stone

Scratching its defiance of the sky
She knew the legend of star-crossed love

Romeo and Juliet of a different hue

Whispers of their mad leap from the butte

But all she wanted was to escape

the barbed wire of her heart

Magpie Tales 239: Meditations Before the Slaughter

Autumn in Madeira by Jacek Yerka, via Tess at Magpie Tales

He belches softly, there in the wood
cider chewy-sweet on the tongue
heavy boots oppress a nation of leaves
with yet a smile to be home

Time overseas burnishes the edges
he thinks, of memories and soil
but the mind heart and belly
never forgot, truly forgot their nest

Winter stirs, bares its teeth in the wind
bringing the chuffing of the hogs
reminding the soldier of the butcher's calling:
In this work, Death begets living, not more dying

Magpie Tales 238: Made For Walkin'

Image via Tess Kincaid at Magpie Tales

boots brogans mukluks

not 'wellies' her look said

I said which do you wear

quick shy smile

under chestnut tresses 

she didn't answer

from over here

now that the rain stopped

looks to me a mismatched pair

at that she stopped

tucked a strand 

behind the shell of her ear

polar blue eyes

with a touch of crow

that mona lisa shone

I wear what I wear

because it suits me

why do yours match?

Magpie Tales 233: Crossing Waters

Yell Sound, Shetland, 2014, by R.A.D. Stainforth via Magpie Tales

Straps dig in the back
Shift the pack while stomach drops

Thrum of engines, bass in the gut

Gulls wheel and cry tears, 

like those of Ma and Da

when home is left behind

Every Day I Am Schrödinger's Cat

Red eyes flickering

Fever state of life or death,

Which will I awake? 

Queen of Hearts

To spend his life
in service to the Queen
Seems all he'll ever know
Guarding the cradle,
sitting vigil at the tomb
Blood, a heart's sussurus
granting him life as fiat
In service to the Queen

Magpie Tale 213: His Other Life

Image via Magpie Tales

Shaking hand opened the drawer

Wormy chestnut, waxy blackened 

angsty scrawls of sun-faded youth 

Burden of years constricts the heart

that sees the tarot of inks it never wore 

Never will, not in this life, nevermore,

Change has come, blood spilled

in a different river from passion's run