Last Day of 2018

Three pink roses peer 
from a blue vase --

newborn stars gleaming

like strawberries dappled

in fading light, fields a'bloom
on the shore of a great lake,

or a thousand geese aloft, 
their song fruitful, sweet 
and wild,

everything praising sunset's 
vast and luminous awe.

          Lie With Me

in this shimmering stream of stillness

where timelessness whispers then eases

into particles of spindrift

disappearing within oceans of sunshine

that sparkle and calm under waves cascading

into pleasing scintillas of rivering rhyme.

Christmas Morning

Three suns
blaze inside
the man’s
body. Tiny
breaths enter
each fire,

almost secretly,

even his tingling
feet start
to smile
on such warm
and friendly
ground. 

Walking In November Dusk

Tonight, clouds glazed
wild and orange
by setting sun.

Rising light
of golden

half-moon 

washes 

tenderness

over all....

a shy mother gazes
in secret

at her toddling
child.

     Sunday

Three pink roses peer

from a blue vase--

newborn stars

gleaming

morning light.

      Wild Taste

A shimmering stillness emerges 

suddenly, sensuously

within day’s fretting and toil and task,

juicy marrow penetrating the bones

and breath of our lives as all glistens 

and sings in outpouring radiant quietude --

body and world bathing in calm,

a buoyant space of allowing 

without judgement or speech,

where ravens, pepper trees, rosebushes,
stones, and people strolling or sitting alone
become fabric woven from light 
into this single carpet of shine....

no separation nor need for thought to dissect

this mystery of wholeness risen from root,

nor extraneous words, well-intentioned but paltry,

this attempt to describe and to trace 
an everywhere and nowhere of place 
in lines such as these--

faintly imperfect reflections birthed 
from one wild, wholehearted taste--

this ever present, freely given,
luminous foundational grace.

          Foundational Grace

There are times when a shimmering stillness

emerges suddenly and sensuously

from within day’s fretting and toil and task

like marrow penetrating the very bones

and breath of our life;

when all glistens and sings in a quietude of aliveness--

body and world bathing in all-encompassing calm,

a buoyant space of allowing without judgement and speech,

no separation nor need for thought to dissect

this mystery of wholeness risen from root,

nor extraneous words, well-intentioned but paltry,

this attempt to describe and to trace an everywhere

but nowhere of place in lines such as these--

faint reflections of luminous foundational grace.