"Children"

Balloons float
          magically
high in the air,
freed from the
          gravity
of Earth by a rare
gas - which adults
          can explain,
if they try.
But children
          know simply...
          "balloons can fly."

"Love's Ghost"

Clear and crisp
          the sky so blue
I'm swimming in
         its freshness.
White and light,
          the first snowfall
of winter-time
          rides endless-
ly through form,
          mating oceans,
brushing flowers
          with kisses.
Leaving traces
          of its ghost
upon the ground
          it misses.

"Mind Dance"

Stretching,
          recoiling,
lunging forward.
Withdrawing
          reaching,
falling backward.
Moving,
          sailing,
through the spaces.
Pulling
          thoughts from
unseen places.
Clearing
          moments
of lucidity.
Sparking
          needed
electricity.

"Alight"

Brightness
          glowing 'round
A blaze
          in the ground.
It's flame
          kissing those
standing
          bravely close,
knowing
          there's a price
for heading
          His advice
who teaches
          that we all
are more than
          we recall.

"Perspective"

Seeing life
Through looking-glass eyes,
reflecting pools
of doubt.

flash-back  vision
plays distorted,
viewed from
inside out.

"Passion"

A field
aglow
with fireflies
sleeps quietly
beneath
luminescence,
feeding itself
on energy
it cannot
live without.

"A New Sun"

Circles and ceremonies
woven from threads
of old
fables found
in chests
scuffed and scratched
with the wounds
of untold yearnings -
unread secret diaries
locked with the keys
of criticism and shame
and threats of a
damaged life.

Pried open by souls
brave enough to
gather the deep
roots of their memories
together in search
of the truth found
in stories saturated with
cleverly concealed
characters whose crimes
are absolved by the
power of their quests
and the purity of their hearts.

Victoriously they read and reenact
ancient rituals -
come rites of passage -
in a time when the veil of secrecy
is made clear
by the light
of a new Sun.

 

"Resolution"

To capture each breath
as the scent of a spice,
filling my body
with winters of cloves
and summers of mint.

To become the rain
nourishing the ground
my liquidy-self
turned prize-tomatoe
with fluid to full
to hold to the vine.

To ride a high note,
its fluttery wings
lifting my moments
like hot bubbles dancing
in a pasta pot.

To be willingly consumed
by the presence of life,
digested in its belly,
food for its blood,
a gourmet offering
to the gods.

 

Castle ghosts
           and games, they say,
you may want
           to come and play.
In the misty
           land of lore,
you may find
           a deeper core.
Elvin people
           search for you
in the land
           of what is true.

Hide behind
           a stone grey fence
if you can’t
           remember whence
trees sung songs
           in fairy tales;
skies were thick
           with monster gales
who might try
           to chew you whole
or could act
           a gentler role.

Ever did they
           play their part
strumming strong
           the strings of heart,
rising up
           a chanting sound
in whose song
           was solace found.
Rhythmic myth
           set life a-sway
parting dark
           of night from day.