Category: Poetry

Here is where my deepest heart lies. These writings emanate from the many times when my passion hits the bottom and other times where it seems to fly on wings. To solace myself, I go to the woods on deep forest trails, pray to waterfalls, look over valleys, and dip my hands in the waters of springs, hoping to soothe myself. Forgive me if I get angry; for at times I’m just plain mad at the world.

Mountain Lake

I sit with her Placing her in memory Giving thoughts strength, yet In her silence, she frightens me. I rely on others Camping upon her shore To soothe my worry. And although I haven’t Seen her rimmed with snow Echoing the clearest of nights,…

The Ocean Welcomes Me Back

She knows me. Though, I haven’t seen All that she is….. All her anger and angst Frozen at times, treacherous. I know her From the safety of my footing. She can pull me, She pulls me, I am pulled Not by ebb, but by…

Carbon

We watch the night sky, safe under its lights, reading a language of the night. Our hands fumble, circle as if in orbit, landing inside each other’s magnetic field.  We whisper to one another in a planet’s dialect, built by a syntax of suns, stanzas…

Aftereffects Of Fire

Here, where fire once raged Our voice is diminished As if our speech leaves through Lungs weighing only of paper And this trail we have carved To stand next to old giants With charred arms Comes with symbols and words Revealing deepened ruts A…

Salmon River Spring

Cool kiss from the forest Stirs an inner revival Charged by its music Fresh from the source That drums upon rocks. As if my very bones Were strewn underneath The stream of Orpheus Whose rhythms sink Past thirst, deep within My core, my atomic…

Scapegoat’s Paradox

Holding it in, close, became a strength An essence, a nugget, bloom’s heart Shaped by chinks, cracks, and splits Of a shell you wished was a softer hue.   Relinquished, expelled, produced a body The lucid form of your careful ambiguity From a cold…

Rewilding

She admires the trees, not knowing how young they are. Gone are the old souls, but she doesn’t know that, the stories she’ll never hear. She takes a leash off her dog, he runs in the clearing, the meadow once there has vanished and…

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