hibernal
.
Going where I am called
When
The trees limbs, heavy with power
Weighed down my airy sorrow
That devil who plays riding the winds
Disruption, right?
That which removed, displaces, reconfigures
Detaches us from truth
Gails carry no such gravity
Yet fringes decorate our sails
By time, ailments scorn
Rebellious aids
In their lessons sown
If the seeds of deceit breed stronger wills
Who stands, when we fall against
.
And now we are
Brought to fire
Deeply drunk with the
Word -
A white birch which tells
Ocean blue jays’
Mirage tail dove
Tea leave tales
Stacked stones we tried to bake
Turned to wooden doors
Fur bares cold skin
A bed of rose petal clove
Briar gums’ sticky leaves
The feral assembly
Gasping out their lives
.
Where your bellow breaths crystallize and Fall behind veiled eyes Winds wane
The sun having already committed it’s entire being to ensuring that window paned light continues to emit every arch of colored waves through a hummingbird’s delicate, translucent wings
Was left in some place of lost lessonsWritten for remembranceBut folded and dropped on a decaying shelfWhere disciplines are stacked and categorized Is this that season in hell that was promised?
Retired, dried, and bookmarked Saved for laterRanked by distance, it irritates the paradoxThe nettle in tears
As giants rest in canyonsSleeping their heads aside mountain cliffs They don’t dare look to devils But directly Only if
Snow filled earsDeaf to turned backs Over salted They don't even notice What came applauded
.
I leave spacesScrapsIn betweenThe screaming men call silence
Stains, raptureIn daisy flowered eyesWhose painted sheetsDropped clothsLeft behind patienceWe gaily greet
In grained, garnet caves lieThe authors of recurrence Standing between two kingdomsMourning the disappearance
I will bury youFor the rest of my daysThe bindings nevertheless burnWhim to winding limb Their ghosts rising, worn
I lay down by beaten arrowsTheir feathers however misplaced Must I ask permission to speak A high and holy chase .
When pain takes away our capacity for movement
We sit in its stillness
Belonging to silent waters
Turbid thieves just made their escape
We, they – tremble at den
In terms of possibilities
Having wept enough for the dead
It’s mold, a faith in fiction
Floating on airs
Creation
A clarified leap
Where winds fall away
And those winged feet bring soul to tireless Sol
Dreamt in crushed leaves
I’ve ridden the fear
Of stolen prayer
For the pounding behind tear
.
Here’s a game
An equal stakes opposition
In love there is suffering
The most reliable human condition
We’re on a non-static, lingering cloud
Unbearable and floating
A ripple and replication of another
Our bodies adorned with doting
These jewels that promised
Our certainty in demise
Only told an orphic, backward story
Returning home were your lies
See this chase of light
Is lyrically vocated
If demurely hiding
We must assume you’ve sated
So your apple in tune
Attempts to outwit the play
Unnerving, unknowing
The waters who only begged, “pray”
.
I wasn’t born
The cloth needn’t be torn
These fingers don’t exist
No lips needing kissed
These soles banished to resistant steps on dawn’s limbs
Only to sing now from God’s book of dead hymns
You could find me, bring me down from the firmament
But you won’t look; arms confined back, held in torment
.
Give me the half of you
That savored grief
You can have your dim alcove in the mountains
Temple worn time, a relief
Lying home in smoke over shallows to bathe
You cannot afford this
Which moves suns but misbehaved
In those familiar, old thrones
Light of gods’ lost, dim and aching
A crumbling altar of wintered stones
Too steeped now for taking
route 1
Sandstone white as blood
Tested with patience
Buried with light
The old forests heavy with silence
Purple royalty of
Fern tipped rays plunged
Into cedar
Burroughs wet with depth
Fog eaters, dark amen
Mallow eroded, endured
Knowers of the gospel
The headlands tripped into ponds
Raining in all directions
Moss born
Cloud torn
Rage in preparation for rapture
To the ancient fossilized tale
The arc demands the whale
Eye soup still sparks
Long strides long lost