The summer leaves betray me

as their tips turn ever so slightly brown.
Translucent, amber stars quietly pushing away from their host, preparing for their fall
to the Earth. 
She catches green then brown in her sweet embrace, while I feel the wind pitch with a bit more fury and I sense the inevitable is near.

 

Earth.   I 'know' it is a cycle and spring will come again and that this means nutrients that feed a natural cycle – and that these fresh leaves will become next years’ rich earth,  which feed the maturing, growing plantlife next spring.  

 But winter, brrrr,  it brews in me a strong resistance

I Feel Gratitude

Supported by many , I stand on my own two feet

What Life Is

The sea rolls in,

waves bringing memories of summer swims, boating, outings, and surfboarding

at night, the sky lights up showing pathways to the deep and mystical universe.

The world is tilting, is anyone noticing?

A man is standing onshore

daydreaming of his family

his past

His grandmother waits indoors, in bed, surrounded by cherished memories.

She is in comfort while she waits silently for death’s approach

As a hawk circles for days overhead, perhaps it is waiting too.

Her life of 99 years now she is passing to a new place, a new adventure.

She has always been unafraid of the open water - what’s to fear?

She taught her children and grandchildren to be unafraid.

And now, as death approaches still she is teaching those around her:

To be open, open to all existence.

It shines through her heart

it says, "Life is Good"

Witnessing a Man

Poems2012thoughtsdreamsandotherrealizations:

Man, stand up.

You are no longer in your cradle .

I. Anger cuts through his body in distorted waves,

To my eye he is tucking and weaving like a boxer in a ring.

This swinging to and fro with eyes to the sky.

And an open window to his soul

He is taking auditory jabs as he speaks of the robbery of the working poor who feed the non-working poor: “The question is do you feel guilty for quitting work or stupid for not quitting before ?  Fuck it, who cares.  This is a tipping point.  I’m going to ’medical out’.  Everyone else is on disability.  Fuck work, I’ll get it for free”.

He is conquering regret with a heavy fist

It leaves me with a tender heart out of which I whisper alert and calm

Leaving a light trace of caring,
My imprint is a mediocre attempt at salvation in the middle of a shitstorm,
 “It’s ok” I say, as I stroke the demons from his furrowed brow.

II. The boat capsizes and is then righted

I am both a sailor and visitor on this vessel

I am open.  The breeze buffeting my open shirt

I am feeling the temptation of the wind – not a care in the world
while I watch my partner, snarling at my now-open sails

I am leaving  taking home to another place
=As he unknowingly hoists my freedom
And I, like a secret pirate on our vessel
I am guilty of high treason

-          Asia 2012

cosmic soup

Pulling one sphere out of dark matter
a drop of insight becomes a molecule

Cowboy Sunsets

In a recent stargazing moment I saw Jupiter
It was as the sun slowly set on the horizon
... and there was some peace that slipped in-between the sky and the earth
 a momentary pause, a cosmic glimpse to outer reaches of the universe
while parallel realities were slipping by each other
glimpses of love
of urgency
of must have's
while jupiter spun its usual course in the cosmos
 a sphere unaffected

It is not February 23 yet

Meteors fire like bullets out of a blackened sky
and my feet burn like embers

I leave imprints of Armageddon in the streets that lay behind me
and my eyes drip with tears of loss