The Dusk Winds

I sat out today when the monsoon stirred the air

its wild whip breath of dragons 

startling in intensity 

I breathed the fresh washed air

studied the runes of stones 

kicked up by the dog 

watched planes climb into clouds 

heading out west into the setting sun

dusk winds sway cottonwoods

like ballgowns descending a staircase

somewhere out there a big dog barks ferociously

its fur rainslick in someone’s backyard 

I could be in the quiet behind the house

but the oak keeps whispering lines from old movies

while the rain water rises from everything to rejoin the air 

Flowers of Spring

 May is almost at an end. I am out in the garden watching dragonflies and hummingbirds. I hope you are similarly enjoying the last mellow days of this gentle season. 

Flowers of Spring

Mid-March brings the daffodils 

daffadondillies my father called them

their word was also naturalized 

in the off months under cover of dirt they spread their palette of yellows and oranges

ready to spring out of the cold

Joined soon by apple and pear blossoms

tulips rise reluctantly from their slumber

emerging pollinators buzz about as April rolls in

buds appear on the lilacs 

turn into wands of flowers

Not only flowers but a proliferation of fresh trembling leaves on the aspen 

coins of the realm on sturdy stems

Rhododendron magentas

miniature clusters of grape flowers appear with the fancy new chartreuse leaves

buds upon the oak produce clusters of leaves veined as if by rivers

leaves that become the size of your hand

Roses and lavender on the return

cosmos, amaranth, borage

suddenly it is a race as the iris rush to the forefront for the month of spectacular 

the flowers of May they dominate the garden whilst hollyhocks send up their majestic spires 

they are the trumpets of the garden orchestra

delicate white baby’s breath blooms with abandon

In the corner the chaste is preparing for June

blue wheat is waving its heads 

grasses are seeding in pastels 

flame headed poppies 

fragrant alyssum 

lavender fragrant fountains

All this is the introduction to June

the garden fills itself up 

wild birds anoint the air with song

hummingbirds flit like giant bees

living green right in the center of the city.

Motherbeing

The tree is mother to the leaves

Vine mother to the grapes 

Rhizome mother to the iris

The philosopher said mothers are our social scapegoats

read parts of The Bald Soprano out loud from his stage

He minced up and down 

wove the spell of the absurd into the room

Revealed the Mother is an Earth power She seizes control to reshape some random outcome

into a work of art and 

*Pay attention here*

her mother’s intent 

her power is the cast in hardstone 

opposite of indifference

Herewith I embrace this quality

Humbug to the attitude mothers must love unconditionally 

Whoever thought that up probably keeps a vial of fairy dust on hand

Believes you can think away cancer

No

there is truth in the world 

let us call her the Iconic Mother

she leans into the good 

crafts the best possible outcome

from the tissue of happenstance 

No cream puff pastry woman 

to be consumed at your leisure

partaking of her generosity of giving herself away 

Iconic Mother is the roots deep to the

groundwater fed hardwood you

child are the leaves attached by her lifeforce 

If you were robbed of her

too soon to have memories of her voice and touch

know she is here in the breeze

caress of ocean on soft sand

force of waves

fury of the storm 

delicacy of flower petal

If you have discarded her from your life

her earth being not a match to your measure

my own heart twists on that barbed wire for both of you

To every transgression there is not a single solution

to many bizarre turns there is no return

We move forward only 

let eyebrows shrug

close hands around those memories we ourselves choose

or make

the heart bends to the songs we sing the heart

does not know the difference 

between remembered 

and shaped from our fears or wishes

nor does the soul 

#mothersday

The Worst Thing I Ever Did

The worst thing I ever did 

was to think that I could solve someone else’s misery 

In terrible hubris 

I waded into her life

a life I myself had brought forth

I tried to change things

I tried to change her

The worst thing I ever did 

was to rearrange her deck furniture 

you know exactly what I am referencing 

She is angry I shoved her into a lifeboat

The worst thing I ever did 

was to blame the iceberg

or was it to board that ship at all

How do we end this 

I have asked many times

yet the ship sailed long ago

her ruins lie in the deeps 

what was is over

in real life

yet will never be ended 

as long as the stories go on

regrets and their half lives

attach like burrs

The worst thing I ever did

was the last walk I took

along that hazardous path

as if anything that is over

could be undone. 

Everything Changes

The corner of the garden was a bare tree

sullen empty grape vine stalks

browning lawn

wimpy broken leafed iris

Next time we go there together 

there will be flowers

oak leaves the size of your hand

hollyhocks blushing and blooming 

endless budding spires

What of grief you might ask

does it ever change

or does it too have its seasons

dense and ripe when it drenches you 

sharper than medieval swords it pierces you

never going away it transmutes

it is an alchemy

later than you can possibly think

grief releases its thousand secrets 

as it teaches your spirit to fly

#NaPoWriMo

#griefjourney

Ode to the Oak, the Garden Oak

New oak leaves beginning their stretch 

in the first light of true day

with blushing tips

clusters like ferns

they assert themselves as crowns of the garden

kingly oak

less common in the corridor of cottonwoods 

marking the riparian borders 

imagine its long arms shielding the rhododendron 

mimosa grateful for dappled sunlight

hung with bird houses for traveling finches

light drenched canopy 

coming into mightiness

#NaPoWriMo

#mightyoak

Earth Day 2023

 Because I am here now 

on this sun drenched sphere 

awash in seas

hosting life and consciousness 

recycling every breath

I believe being is eternal

not a flash through select moments 

nor the vanishing sense of hereness

but partaking in forever

time being water 

ever slaking thirst

it is what I feel in the shadow of trees

scent of orchids and wisteria 

expanding leaves of the spring oak

hear my celebration of our planet

roll on the grass with me and my dog

find the beings described by clouds

feel the light winds

one day we will dance into the waves

swim like ocean denizens

breathe water like air 

taking in time itself 

as we and earth and sky are one 

#NaPoWriMo

#EarthDay