American Requiem

The ancient ones slayed their enemies under the open sky with no self-deceit; subsistence is the only cause of a just war. Legend holds they released the spirit of the dead through dance and primordial song; one more day to live was marked with scalps and totems, a remembrance of the elemental struggle for breath […]



O, solitude, in vintage grade alpine climes. A quiet vigil, just one morning, held in the foreground of Presence, of indwelling, steady on the primacy of earthen trail, my hands and face still flush with morning fire. I stopped to sit ‘longside the marmot. We dallied in the Holy, facing the east like the orthodox. I looked over the […]


Look into the heart of the acorn; find the order of the cosmos, telos unrestrained in a fall to earth, the molder, the fusion of coded matter with loamy humus. Look into the center of the mortal soul lost to its creaturely cipher. We strive in wild myth-making, in sanctioned forms of astral-projection, without the […]


For a time, we harbor… we live among our own, in bounds of law and whims of culture. There are mores and norms and rituals to observe, for we believe that God inhabits them. In the teaching of children lies the distillation of our substance. A learned scrutiny will reveal our absolutes. Yet, there is […]

A Small Circle of Light

Winter births the new season in the hard contractions of spring snows. A long labor this year. I have seed in the ground and have become suspicious of the birds. The currant is budding, not the scrub oak, which knows, they say, when the last snow has fallen. Today, I have soil to amend and […]

Echo II

I wait for moon to die below black and jagged pines as I lay my aging body down on terra firma, my faith, my dream, the grand mystery, in and above all that is. I have no fear of night, for it is day without light, when all that is green suckles in dew and loon turns beak beneath wing, and wolf […]


I can be a man of melancholy and mirth. I believe, this condition, a symbiosis of uncultivated contraries, and for reasons outside of reason, is native to the ancient echoes of wolves and loons lamenting to a dusky moon somewhere in the northern sphere of water, rocks and trees. It is a grief and it is a […]