The Valley of Creation’s Masterpiece

 I stand on the edge of the precipice….
Soak in the healing power
Where beauty’s face is manifest….
Gazing out to pure harmony of stone and color,
Glorious and blazing,
Sparkling blues swirling into clouds….
Filled with such subtle yet majestic curves, spinning,
Weaving, reaching far beyond my vision.

Everything I see is mere reflection
That draws me onward, deeper into
Valley of pure wilderness….
No accident, but only Nature’s delightful play at work
Upon the canvas of this quiet valley on the Earth.
If I only could compose a symphony,
For words fail to grasp
Such endless glories in this countenance of light.

At this moment of discovery, untouched by hands,
Blossoming into emerging, waiting space,
Filling the heart with indescribable grace
To witness, to be present to
Such tender power residing in uplifting Earth,
Framed by high mountains strength….
All senses kindled, called forth….
Overflowing waterfalls touched by shadows,
Radiating energy sevenfold.

This is the very Face of the Nameless God—
Voice uncaptured by any ritual of written words—
Pure beauty and mystery unrestrained.
If I could only learn to sing the bounty
Held within the ancient stone,
Worked out in a million years of love,
Birds caroling, tall forests reaching into canyon walls,
Glacial polishing raining down to
Evolving human consciousness that stands and watches….
Witness to the handiwork of God.

I weep in surrender to the awe.
Such heights and depths beyond all knowing…
Releases whatever chains of blindness,
Breaks the ground and finely grinds the stone of cruel self,
Makes humble the grandeur of human thought….

Endless time blossoms in quiet meadows….
Encloses me in restless peace extraordinary.
Out of deepest darkness pours the purest Light,
Enfolding… holding… evolving….
Flowering, flowing toward Eternity…..

A New Vocabulary for Light

 Staring at the mouth of Moon tonight,
I wanted to learn more about the light,
Develop wider vocabulary than
“Shining silver hanging in the night” for this
Balanced upturned saucer…
Come up with more expressive terminology,
Lexis for this waxing lunar luminosity
Holding rain until it spills into garden by the lake.

Yes, I suppose it’s adequate to say
Stars blink out in early morning,
Though to me they stutter as they sputter,
Moan as they die when they depart too early,
Make their exodus at the fading of the night
Just as dew is slowly forming in the grass.
Do you listen for the sound of light?

What grammar would you choose for the sun
As it rises over evergreens on the eastern hills….
Works its way across the meadows of the world,
Every hour a different color….
Shining shades of atmospheric blue,
Peeking through passing clouds at noon,
Bringing shadows curling around your shoulders,
Lengthening the hours toward evening glow?

Do you ever sit and watch the essence of this light,
Undress the language as it reveals itself,
Painting, piercing, promising from
Red to yellow to gold to silver to platinum?
Yet it isn’t just those colors any more
Than a lover is just a lover,
Blinding me with tears of joy or grief,
Softly blowing on my lips before essential kiss or
Sorrow that knifes right through my heart
When your unfaithful words
Lose the wedding ring I bought.

There are no words for any of this… not a single star—
Not a glass of ruby wine accompanied by Mahler’s symphony.
I give up on study of vocabulary exploding into mind.
Instead, let’s demand we read the little fires within the eyes,
Telepathy revealing hints as a shortcut without words,
Nuances and hues stretching naked,
Laying down in heat of summer breeze as we laugh,
Windows open to the blazing light,
Weightless in the searing heat.

Emerging into My Fourth Age

 Slowly, I sense I am emerging into my Fourth Age….
Perhaps it is my Fifth or Sixth…. Increasingly
I am less concerned with numbers.
All boundaries are porous and loosening fast.
My mind is busy with deeper things,
Seeking out new experience and nuggets in the world
I’ve never seen or sensed before—
Like angels hovering in the morning breeze or
Deeper meaning in nighttime dreams
That shimmer into consciousness on starry nights,
Move as one with breath,
Then dance away as peach wisp of cloud
As dawn of sun fills new day.

Membranes around my heart are getting thinner.
Before another speaks, I sometimes feel their pain.
I cry more when talking with close friends.
The beauty of the world explodes into my vision
Everywhere I look— the hills across the lake,
Eyes of friends, faces of strangers on the bus,
The shadow of a hawk at noon or the snow
Falling onto the path on winter’s night….
The peach that comes with dawn on beach,
An aged, lonely tree without its leaves,
Bare feet upon rough sand….

I close my eyes and see a spot of interior blue—
A clarity that seems more true than
Science ever told within a tome of words.
I hear music whisper when I am silent…
Sense a yearning within expanding heart for greater love.

Be tender, please.  In youth, my heart was stronger.
Now it opens when I sense the promise of an honest kiss.
The world is more simple than I ever knew….
Forgive me if my mind is on such things as this.
Be gentle, my dear, if memory is fading,
For other things appear before my clouded eyes.
I focus more on hidden worlds, unseen yet sensed….
Concealed within the clamor of the day,
But slowly they emerge when quietly I pause to pray.

Soon the time will come when I will drag the heavy skiff
Across the dunes and onto the beach,
Drift out to deeper water—
Through crashing waves toward misty seas,
Leave the only continent I’ve ever known behind
As I sail away from worries and cares,
Rocked as if in cradle of infinity—
Perhaps forgetting I love the Earth so much
I want to stay forever.

Wisdom Flies Upon the Wing

Even on most bitter winter day,
Wisdom comes…..
Flies upon the clearest air,
Not always what we seek,
Still she comes, silently into consciousness,
Sometimes a single thought alone.
 
Do not walk cold woods of the world half-asleep,
Though melancholy shadows bleak
And breaking forth of spring seems far away.
Each hour there is learning to be learned,
Appearing suddenly out of nowhere,
Flying into life before it quickly goes,
Gone beyond horizon as a dream
Lost at breaking of the dawn.
Did you catch its eager voice?
Were you alert to omen’s hidden meaning?
 
If alert, you’ll feel the moving air,
Hear alarm or piercing cry,
Sudden, large or small it comes
Then disappears as a wisp of fog….
Expanding everything you’ve ever known,
Changing how you see the world.

I Heard the Most Glorious Hymn

 As the sun went down over lake
I walked outside in pure heaven—
Heard the most glorious hymn….
The day that Thou gavest has ended
And the darkness soon shall come as my friend—
As gold in horizon ascends to invisible stars,
Thy praise will hallow the hours of night.
 
Tonight I will dream among angels,
The message unresting, unsleeping….
Through the watch Thou will be keeping
While Earth turns onward toward light.
The voice of Thy praise rooted deep in my soul,
Still water reflects the sight of Thy Word ,
Leads on to the dawn of the morning,
Sustains dream never ending,
Constant and glorious in waking and sleep.

Hovering Angels

Whatever angels hover about me today,
Help me remove tired veil about my eyes,
Sense your presence, hear your sighing prayer,
Feel white cloudy wings drop about my shoulders.
 
If it is allowed, whisper to me your name,
Drop into the silence like early morning dew,
Burn anew as re-kindled flame within brooding heart.
Heal, protect my soul if you are permitted to impart
As you wing your way, sing your way,
Floating as white feathers from clouds down to Earth.

Morning Silhouette

Tonight, as I fall asleep,
I will reach for your hand,
Close my eyes and press it to my lips.
I will pray that when I wake
Your closed eyes, your dreamy sighs
Will be the silhouette within my bed.
 
I’ll watch your breath—
Count each rise and fall in early morning light,
Praying it goes on forever,
Hoping that in your dreams
You’re walking with me,
Holding my hand,
Not needing to speak, only to touch….
Waking together under the same morning sun.

Out in Cold Rain

Tonight, I am not only alone
But lost in that space where love has gone wrong…
Standing at sharp poverty’s edge, out in cold rain,
Dark water refracting a wearying sky,
Wondering if spring will face bloom ever again.
 
There is a place of long troubling space where
Time hates love, hates memory, hates hope….
Finds trust only in Lear’s
“Never, never, never….” And watches aloof
Self-punishing obsession, like tides coming in waves,
Washing over bare feet… a glamorous hell.
 
I have lost my longing to sing
Songs of desire for impossible love.
The room has finally stopped spinning;
My world has stopped turning; it is winter outside
And though it is night, I have at last awakened
Realizing I’ve lived in a dream.
 
Walking the dog by sly light of new moon,
Left disinherited, black eyes cratered,
Endlessly circling, dwindling, airless…
Dead, dead, dead rocks under my feet.

First New Moon

Tonight is the year’s first New Moon,
Beginning of the Year of the Dragon…
Whatever light hangs above is fast asleep,
Refuses to reflect like an insolent child
Unwilling to open eyes—
Pierces the night like a nail.
I will not allow this ancient sphere
To make me beg a new-born to
Show me the glow of a delicate smile.
 
I’d rather wait for the blue of a bitter dawn,
Ignore the petulant child till hunger nags,
Forces the weasel through a long, hard trek
Until waxing silver bowl begins to show its
Tiny sliver, sucks the empty air for milk…
Each night greater and greater light,
Snatches from the breast of Mother,
Grows fat listening to silent lullabies.
 
Full Moon, when it comes, will break my heart—
Snap it like ripe apple breaks the branch.
Wild and vain, this strange light
Drives lunatics to question
What in the name of God is going on….
For now, I’ll sleep alone in the spare room,
Dream of the times we unwrapped
Precious hours in amber light,
Practiced kissing to fine work of art.
 
 

The Wildest Work

So quietly does snow come down,
Descends upon stone wall,
Covers each and every boulder waiting,
Delirious snow whipped by cold fevered wind
Over-making world in white.
 
Such storms do not care for
Slight proportion in the night,
Shutting out the woods from sight,
Infrequent visitors denied a clearing…
Fanciful as swans trumpeting sleet,
Soundless close the world until the Sun
Returns to melt its wildest work.
 
I am astonished yet again,
An edge of savagery at hand
With shovel as I uncover path,
Too old to frolic in the yard,
Design snow angels on my back….
Heaven’s architecture one with wind,
Tapering on the slant of roof a drift
Without a care in privacy of storm.
Stone by stone the work is done
As path reopens Earth’s waiting ground.