On the last nightof a darkened yearfilled with light remember:the good in the bad,the tender in the tight,the softness in the strength, the death bearing life.Forward and forewarned to release expectations and embrace uncertainty. A bird homed in high ceilingsremains unfree.
homeland
return and receive
Butterflies boundto the arrival of anotherin flight and fantasy, toconnect across the continent.Four wheels of furyweaving through adisco lit highway,grinding to the beatof orange cones in abandoned work zones.The chorus of homea cherished refrainhalts the hustleas wings spread to receive precious cargo.
midwinterrain
Pacific coasting highway emptied by rainwater fallsinto the white caps drop by dropsoaking through sand quenching marine desert mountains.Sand slaked and sodden as silence descends, save the calming crashof winter waves.
countryside calamity
Betrothed to a viral lovehellbent to twist traditions into isolations —even the day breaksan unpaired dove.No choice in the choosingdecisions made under duress —there is no knowing what has failedbefore each feeble test.This year mimics last,no reprieve for the pious,while rebels fall in dual accord —the unscathed rendered sideless.
Primavera in winter gloves
Baby bovine grows on green pastures,early and elated with the joys of new lifefresh and innocent to the sorrows of unprecedented tides.Dry ground soaks into the morning rain,while Hope hobbles into a new lightovercast, unsaturated, delicate — asif each grazing cow on the far hill could consume our world too, aseach blade of grass bears … Continue reading Primavera in winter gloves
merry melodies
West coast winter soak —green overnight, pastures bloom rainbows wrap gray skies ~Second year, countingnew traditions become old Christmas lobsters slap ~Lightstrung pine star crowned,silver baubles bounce and sway ~ merry melodies
round & crowned
wave — crash - wave - worry —merry tides of tradition spurned by spikes, againcould be calm, could beworse — maybe — always betterwhen masked together sympathy settles‘round a hearth humbled by love families adapt
when
A city exhales,homes inhale — people worryabout positives.The negatives granttemporary clarity but when will we live?Spontaneous joy,without examination free to love again —
found in translation
In a language neither of us speak we try to articulate the delays and dreams our hearts endure, translating the ineffableelation that coaxed usinto each other’s arms.The improbability of our unionbinds us to the possibility of some forever.
in time
Wayward and forwardnever backwardwe fall into the arms of who we are,always becomingmore brilliantly our own ~unique as the yellow biloba and tenacious as those who clung to and cultivatedthe ginkgo’s roots,nearly receded into extinction butwith us today, growing.
Species of Value 