On the mountain’s jagged edge, notched for canyon passage, beneath the clouds there sets a space open to the far horizon for blue and light to chase the drear back over my shoulder and out across the plains. This reminds me to do at least two things; one, to find within old fears of all […]
If there is a virtue that is like water, something real that works deep, then be as the canyon, willing to give up on stately profiles standing sheer on far horizons. Channel waters from whitened peaks. Carry life to dry places.
Beneath the stone, encased in stillness, dark and cool, larvae strains to pupae strains to nymph, then bubbled for transport rising, emerging, surfacing, enticing Browns and Rainbows suspended. Resting, waiting, on the flow then spreading anxious into first flutter, an embodied gasping for first exchange, struggling into the thinner, dryer, warmer medium, fluttering, lifting, falling, […]
He spoke in the dangerous dialect of occupation. He wanted it all back in the original version of earth. He took up with the wilderness between mystery and science. He was sure to be facing down many great delusions, and the formidable crux of our existence itself. Everything hinged on leaving, being willing to take that first step out the door […]
In the smoke of many fires we rise. Our signals are are read across the far reaches. Morning by morning, taken up, taken in, braiding skyward with the wild dream spilled out into star fall flaring silent four billion years, resting here, cooling, revolving, wettening, conceiving, generating, incubating, cultivating, nurturing, caring, loving its own by […]
Here is a lesson for those of us of later seasons: mystery is the offside of everything we see. For what we each have always been is an embodied consciousness somehow knowing and not knowing all at once. So feel free to make sense of it all however you choose with words you gain along […]
After the divorce and in the throes, I walked along the beaches of Southern California sunset after sunset. I collected stones and shells that I have kept in a hand blown glass jar I found at a rummage sale, green, cylindrical, with air bubble imperfections as if to suggest a frailty, perhaps a looming likelihood of breaking open […]