Juicy round autumn
Juicy round autumn
burnished red and
golden
mesmerizing quality of time
today.
Hunger forgotten when life is a
garden.
Sow and weep
while you sleep
a new day grows.
Getting our time
together.
Getting in touch with weather
again.
And there's been so much to
weather
again and again and
again.
Sunrays are playing
warming the walkways
flashing out rainbows
in random puddles and
streams.
Clear skies and
starlight
awaken the night hours
expanding the time to harvest our
dreams.
Persephone's
Breakthrough
This is where the idea is born.
Soft green meadows gently transforming into
fall
Sounds of dying, scent of woodfire and
candlelight
No separation between what is
becoming
Accept and be revealed
Summer's wild adventures
Spring was a torrent of clarity, precious
rain,
Earth coarse, ready for fecund
pleasure
Queen of night in daylight's
realm
obsessed in flowering
roses and daffodils
valleys and nubile hills
all is vanity and laughing vice
"But, Mother, I'm not a nice
girl.
I'm a creature of the breeze; secure in
shadow;
alive on the cutting edge of the
storm."
Myth in revision
Standing at the back of the
playground
learning theater, tucking
metaphors
into interstices of sense and
anticipation
In spring, kicking stones along sandy
riverbeds
reading the classics
to savor practice: valor, glory, dramatic
lines
Summer deceives
the stink of rot where flowers
bloom
ancient feuds, retaliations,
rage
tyrannosaurus feeding future
waste,
absorbing a zeitgeist of want, of
predation
Within greed-swollen seed infectious
fear
makes merry with misery’s habit
Mythology frustrates, curls back on its own
ash
Eyes burn with hazy summer wine and
wilding
Feet connect dust to sky -- but only in
designated
spheres, with designated peers,
self-selected inhibitions
Sweat out poison into the ground; now, eat
the bounty
Midsummer farce, far from honor, far from
sunrise,
counting out the chimes as if time were
treasure
Silly summer madness as if what
matters
is so circumscribed, so
predictable
Early autumn firelight
reminiscent of witch hunts, ghosts of
calvary,
dire warnings and endless hide and
strike
The game, the funhouse, turns
deadly
Sanctuary calls, demanding
sacrifice
The noble phoenix fed on
frankenseed
can not rise
Skies descend, dark mirroring
Smell the woodsmoke, intoxicating, soft and
sweet,
masks the taste of bitter bile, secret
vomiting,
starving despite harvest's gay array of
treats
Faded, nearly blind, falling in and out
of
shamanic fever, primeval native callings
beyond sight,
ripple of tribal beat at the
periphery
ecstatic vision dark/light/agony and
brilliant breaks
starbright constellations
Traversing worlds
seasons, years, moments of
clarity
no need to navigate, to invent
boundaries;
dance of the highlands warmth and
sustenance
permeates
makes whole
September
reflection
Golden
night.
High fields of
food and seed
aglow for
harvest.
Aching for
thrill and release,
late summer
serenades
romance
wraiths,
spirits of Pan,
amorous nymphs
a’hum in ripe foliage.
Crickets,
nightwings,
mingled
weeping and merry cries
slowly
reveal
stragglers on
night shores,
legends told
in ghost voices, echoes
migrations.
Random
Notes
Random
notes
Spin and
float
And echo through this
day of harvest.
National
news
And lines from blues
songs
Hover 'round me as I
work.
Love's a word, a
concept,
I sometimes
believe in.
But when tension holds
me like a sieve,
I can't believe in
anyone.
A child
grows
And learns to
know
The Norms and Bounds
and Social Graces;
Learns to see a world
that we
Have carefully wrought
and framed.
We grow
old
And feel we've
sold
A hope, a dream, an
inspiration
To more comfortably
fit into
The slot above our
name.
Obsequious in
resentment
Heart-full caring
loners
wring tattered woe, fling
out
rope distilled from wellsprings,
private harvest.
Cultivation rituals hung
taut.
Shamanic curse
spun into fine golden
fabric.
Gifts of remembrance.
Sunbeams sing along brilliant
waterfalls.
Sparkling rivers feed turbulent
melody.
Those who have found the
key
play here. Time loses
consequence.
Old wounds age,
grow into fascinating
scars,
fireside stories
retold to bind
kinship.
We become free
explorers
frail and strong,
innocent and wise,
reticent and gaudy.
Obsequious in
resentment,
angry actors diminish
hope,
fart epithets,
express frigid gargoyle
smiles
as badges
of superiority.
Indian Summer
In a time of awakening;
In a season of wild
abandon;
In a moment of sensation -
In a flash
In a long and luscious indian summer of
my life
Glorious dreams were made.
Sound doctrines magnified.
Quick impulses of insight found light
and sparkled
long into the autumn night.
I will remember
the chill of golden woods
the fairytale rolling
mountains
the days upon days of cool clean
crispness
like the sweet/tart fruits of
harvest.
In a clearing
Along a riverbed
Furry forest sounds and scent of
moisture
Early morning dawn
awakening
to a season of wild abandon
a golden moment of
sensation
In a flash -- alive to an open
season
Alive to a new awakening
Alive
Ceres on the
Cusp of Venus
Call in the
harvest
My Lady awaits
(impatient
is She, as all
Immortals)
She sends cauldrons
for filling
on chariots of the
Moon --
brightly
risqué
stars burn in
celebration
We have given
diligent care
and service,
enchanted the
wealth of the surf
and sun,
bound nature to
noble
oblige.
Welcome Grand
Goddess!
Enjoy the fruits and
glories
our labour hath
wrought
for your
adoration.
Work and
Love
These are the
best,
the
holiest,
of life's
offerings.
harvest (2008)
Mornings come later
now
permeated with scent of
harvest
green and red and the
bright orange
of the Harvest
Moon
Morning air, heavy with
moisture
seeps through my
pores
into my
bones
I see ships sailing in
rough sea
their fortune a deity's
toss of dice,
or whim
ships laden with
treasure
and sailors desperately
loved
On a placid pond three
ships sail
a fine sunny
regatta
The deep decay of
harvest
carries me
home
Harvesting Moonlight
Today the dark approaches, loosens
veils of entropy.
Pixel colors whisper, soft hum of
trails diminishing.
Lumbering, tales sweaty from slumber
sweep
crumbling crusts, twigs and
dust,
unencumber twinkling.
Luscious Moon, brilliant,
rises
like a sacred flower unbinds,
radiates,
smiles indulgence.
Celestial song, deep-breath
effulgence,
lofty spirit. All we who hear it
open our wings.
This night we fly over poignant
fields of work requited,
imbibe euphorious mystery of peace.
Labor’s release,
rewards of harvest, ritual feast of
play.
Uproarious dance with moonlight;
voice, arms, soar
in embrace so strong,
complete.
