Blue

My life is passage into blue. The moon is blue this morning, over our little mountain, twice full this season of waiting; for it is August. I will not be arriving when I make my way beyond, just beginning and my children will know a bit more how to open, to unfasten, to throw the […]

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Wild Rose

Wild rose, native beauty of flower and thorn, stood rooted, still reaching through blight and neglect on a landscape of absence and exile. I have witnessed this fixity of green life ‘long game trails unsullied by hoe or human resolve, adorning the floor of the forest as finery, so simple, so forthright, so attuned to […]

August

In first light, the distant northbound bellows of its empty coal cars. I have heard prayers like that. The dogs moan lowly lilting ‘cross a field of crystalline dew. The prodigal monsoons, seven years astray, returning, swelling the creek, the garden, and hope for the harvest. A prompting deep, spoken clear, “pay attention”, this is august, […]

Antipathy

This day will not yield its sublimity. My heart is hard and now to see the heron torn of wing standing stalwart, offering herself to the world’s great hunger. I see why, last night, I dreamt of coyote. For dreams are the naked utterance of the soul. While prayers are spoken rote and regulated by a […]