5/24/17




the dead and the alive bathe in yesterday's sunlight    where my wounds are punished with honey



5/21/17




singing to be alone and not alone    as i sweep my aging path






the pleasure of singing into the ears of giant trees    is how i have come to change






when you wake in the night there is nothing to fear    come down to the place where you lie



5/20/17




low voices of trees dragging my soul by its sleeve    the lightning still in its seed



5/19/17




we live our lives in circles unclosed    thus the loved one never asks if i will stay



5/17/17




why should someone dream of me    set heart in a place beyond what is seen






the night and the day are her arms her name    and the river we are given to hold



5/16/17




i remember hanging motionless    almost sky    as something starless to perceive



5/14/17




within an earlier melody    unknown outside the dream    are the lands i am and will learn to perceive


5/13/17




the valley that opens where nobody is looking    the light that hurts to understand



5/12/17




many winters one old robe    everyone i love but do not know opening in the wind



5/11/17




our home as it should be    without further blessing    than the fall of all that becomes



5/10/17




of all things not living our nakedness grows    without shadow    with all loss of light



5/9/17




from these rows of ashes still warm you will grow    your silence is no one else



5/8/17




why i can't put my mouth into words    takes a lifetime of candling for life



5/7/17




the orioles are here but where have we hidden the song of the trees






the heart in the stone beat again while i slept at the end of never getting home



5/6/17




who owns the silence    and who else would know    the love that hides our beginning



5/5/17




thus i was given me    vein upon vein    around eyes that were already there



5/2/17




the sound of the severed string is this :: which vow to your death have you failed



4/30/17




i heard a life fall    or i heard nothing at all    the arms of the cross at my feet



4/29/17




will i see through the window that has fallen asleep    my casket carrying its rain



4/28/17




with the taste of stars in my mouth    whose wisdom am i ready to learn



4/27/17




that part of the sky that fell into my mind    is to whisper the name of the raven






what can you write on the skin of the past that only the sleepers will read



4/25/17




the gate of the moon left open    is to love what i cannot know






4/24/17




there comes a day when it will not open when i ask the sun its troubles






there was a black branch touching the silence where neither could remember waking



4/23/17




from hands you will never see spilling music for the first time because you are just arrived






streets walking with their heads held low ::  i climb the stairs of the rain



4/22/17




i love this song that was not heard until the moon was warm from its birth



4/21/17




this is the art of birth :: that the cold and the dead shall blossom



4/20/17




it is always there    gathered in scars    takes nothing away



4/19/17




the prayers you have answered are always somewhere else    yet so close as to be inside



4/17/17




it is the mouth of the moon i feel against my side :: where the wound of my death is not yet real



4/16/17




you were always no further than the moon can sail    no more than my eyes could gather



4/14/17




what you say is nothing we say about you    and the arrival of our silence is too late



4/11/17




what is there in me    no heavier than lightning    yet helpless in the gravity of light



4/9/17




for the sake of all burials and the flames of spring :: shall i marry the grief of the soil



4/6/17




all night long knowing and not knowing the figure asleep on the shore



4/5/17




there is a wild place we can build in the rain :: and give to each other the calm of night






as if someone in our shape enters the sun before us    there is a hole there in the light



4/3/17




what does the sleep of the rain have to do    with music the kingfisher heard






you keep calling and calling to the beginning of listening :: dawn



4/2/17




the downhill slope of endless light :: or the moon who cannot stop listening






whose question is the music you alone can dream



4/1/17




before there is knowledge    we know    how the hands and the trees will be broken






how far is the reach of a flash of darkness from this nest of borrowed rain



3/31/17




my dust and i will surely forget the smell of approaching rain