Sunday, June 6, 2010


There is purpose in the highs and lows
Flying over rocky terrain
entranced in sea waves, currents,
light of the Moon.
There is magic in the swoon,
the dizzy heights,
seeking ecstatic stars.
Carrying the seed below,
stumbling among rocks,
tillable soil,
carrying water,
stirring the mud into food
for hungry beaks,
falling entrenched away
from seeking.
Solidly aware
that touchpoint of glory
above the waves
June 6, 2010