A hollowed-out log
stretches into a meadow
noisy with lupine and yarrow.
A single mushroom born
from decay shines
in damp darkness.
As day awakens
a trio of squirrels scamper
inside as the dead spruce,
bathing in birdsong, Summer
heat and a battalion of ants,
smiles down in its core
as the party begins.

Golden State Awakens

This morning as we scampered

along, stepping without thinking

into early light,

the grasses were woven into sheaths

that glowed and kissed the river below

with joyful thoughts of contented times.

Breezes carried the tops of trees

whispering good fortune,

pleasing all who stroll along water’s edge

where children stumble and tumble,

laugh and shout, and hide in twos and threes

behind fat oaks; they’re holding

hands and in their glee and supple bones

know the truth of each moment’s

buoyant speech.

And the golden grasses, trustworthy

witnesses, start to sing their wild prayer

as day deepens into its dance

of color, its wild, intricate design.

Theology Lesson

A suddenness of hummingbird!

then spinning away scrawling

another name for God

'the great giving'

in airborne

invisible ink
before,

like Amelia Earhart,

drifting out

disappearing,

over the blue lake.

  Her Armpits

These twin earths,

hidden

holy lands,

where you, dear sisters of quiet,

read library books

underneath a dark

stairwell,

while in hungry times
this pilgrim's tongue 

returns like an overdue

thief night after night

to lurk and to linger

in your fields

of dank tobacco

of jasmine blooming,

listening for clues.

And your moist lips,

sweet with tea,

wordlessly moving

in secret, together.

      Next….

Sometimes the necessary

step to take next

is to stop,

not to step at all,

but to recline on cool grasses

near the lake’s edge

with eyes closed, listening

to clouds hovering,

tasting the articulate wind,

resting in earth’s cradle;

or to stand at an arched doorway

next to a tall stranger,

a woman with short brown hair,

where together in the shy heart

of stillness you face the unseen

interior of an ancient church

for as long as it takes--

until in the uncertainty of refraining,

Silence whispers her delightful language

and you both begin trembling,

footprints swept away, erased

in floodwaters of surprise

by a river of fire arising

from that which birthed this church,

rousing every cell, sinew and desire

of your bodies’ once quiescent futures

towards whatever happens next….

        Dream of Two Women

What an idiot to marry a second time

And then be told within the hour

That I don’t love her but am just here

For security! She knew and I knew she knew

Even before I knew what she said was true.

We were living outside separately and I don’t mean

Outdoors. Two countries that share

A well bordered longing whose citizens

Cannot migrate into foreign land. No undone

Demarcations here. Uniformed guards know

Their jobs.

A spade is a spade is a spade. We were digging

Stone again, a horizontal wall inches underground.

Flinted sparks, clang of iron, bleeding knuckles

Soon.

Earlier, that sudden kiss

Out of the blue with a woman I’d only just met.

Delicious, tender, a brief wet meeting in time.

Tasting each other’s soil, borders inside that moment

Easing, melting. One language spoken: lips, tongue, face

                          Eyes

The present depth our unwalled security, we become

A single gate. Who is she? In this breeze hair wisping

My hungry cheeks….

What country warms her untamed mouth?

Waterfalls and Other Gifts

It took this mug of morning coffee,
a hunk of time, and sitting quietly
in my easy chair
as another day of heat wave unfolds

to know that even the ever increasing
grumble of the garbage truck
pounding past the window

is like standing naked
underneath a waterfall, refreshed
and sparkling, encompassed

in surprise of sensual baptism
on a Summer's day....

       Animal Truth

If I were a cougar, and deep

in dark soil of night I often have been,

I would not eat a shred

of trump’s fetid carcass

face up on this log;

instead I’d watch and rest, then saunter among boulders

and oaks in the cold.

I’d leap over his body twittered with flies,

flick my tail at the layers of rot,

those infinite lies.

I’d pass by his stench no matter

the weeks since my last kill.

Let the maggots crawl out to feast,

finally give him his due

under the joyous gold light

of the moon and of all

that is true.