Angels Bending Near the Earth

Cracking the veil
from this world to the next
ease the body as it goes,
not death but metamorphosis,
blue skies from now on.
The color blue is infinite,
the sky this color
for spiritual reasons
as well as physical ones.
Blue is a holy color
remember how much blue
is in early renaissance painting.
Nothing in the physical nature
is by accident
even royal Violet’s
gray fur with its silver sheen
is an indication of her royalty.
The bumble bee’s stripes
are for contemplation and humor
as well as a distraction
away from the queen bee.
Continue to give
all your burdens to us,
morning, noon, and night,
like blessings at mealtime,
it’s remembering a link,
accepting with gratitude
the miracles of every day.
Accept the flow of bounty
through the body and through life.

From a new collection, "The Winged Deer"

Dream of a Winged Deer

You are the winged
part of myself
heart wings
hidden
in the woods
nestled in magic
trees. Fly me.
I fly somewhere
inside when I
alight in deep green
covered in
conversation of
a tree kind,
a crunchy
forest floor sort.
I must be there,
I must be you.
I must be
covered with forest.
With these wings
I heal.

The Disappearance of Merlin

Appears in Three Drops in a Cauldron Press, Special Beltane Edition April 8, 2016

The Disappearance of Merlin

In Memory of Dan Noel


You gave me a gift
then disappeared
I’m left holding the wand
the coned hat
the stars swirling.
You said to name the baby,
“The Song of Nature
in the Dance
with the Imagining Psyche.”
In my soul
I knew it was right,
the music flows
interweaving the invisibles
with matter.
The fairies danced
and chirped
“Choose me, choose me!
We’re ready to come
out of hiding.”

The stage was set
the adventure to begin
“I turned to share the transport…”*
but where are you?

“The song of nature called me,”
you said
“I could not resist.
But I am in the stone
the woods, the streams,
the everlasting sea
you will always find me.”

Now I wander in the woodlands
flitting from tree to tree
stirring the silence
of the trickling stream.
I still hear the music
the giggle of dolphins
but feel the vast horizon
of sea and sky.

Ah, trickster magician
all is turned around.
You see, I am the one caught
and held in space and time.



* “Surprised by Joy, Impatient as the Wind” William Wordsworth

The Unused Room

In Anima issue #2 coming out winter 2016

The Unused Room

Here is the quiet
and the bells,
again I hesitate
to venture with
the heart wings
into this unused room
even with such
a small offering,
just a whisper
of the deep.
A glimpse of
the golden palace.

Movement

Movement

They come in the morning
first are the crackling branches
movement unseen in
the thick of the forest.
The dark mystery of all
(where in the night
sounds unearthly come.)

Then finally a face
emerges from the green—
the other part of self
that is kept in the woods.

Stepping into your world
is a grace, a gift
from the deep heart
of things until now
kept hidden.

I see all this movement
shape-shifting change
is a move towards intuition.

I Float, I Fall

I Float, I Fall


Snow falls repeatedly
in a weekly pattern,
covering over.

Clearing away,
small areas
reveal themselves,
then the falling again.

I fell from the stars,
all is foreign,
I am always homesick,
but trying to pay attention,
to why I’m here.

Beauty keeps me
in its spell,
my soul
floats to earth,
and gathers,
mystical white.

It clears a little
and something
is revealed,
something is discovered
underneath.

Somewhere flowers bloom,
the stars twinkle,
I float, I fall.

Winterwoods

Winterwoods

I seek you out in sorrow
you are deeply brown
with shades of purple
set against deep gray.

Here I am.
What shall I be?

In sorrow is joy, you say,
Earth is a rich
but burrowing thing,
Brandenburg concertos
play behind:
that is winter.

Winterwoods
I am more
than what I can do.
Let me just stand here
and breathe you.