unbearable beauty

I would have
to write a poem for each waking moment
and every one between
to praise creation enough–
but I would miss
butterfly’s flight, bird’s in-breath,
redwood’s shadow–
to look down
at words and paper.

At times its too beautiful
to witness light changing between
blades of grass or to hear tree’s
silent prayer. In weakness
I look away
to a blank page such as this
and calm my ecstatic heart
with words of prayer,
not of longing, but of fullness–

Either tears or words will flow forth
from inspiration and her source. A
thousand poems a moment
could never express…
Listening deeply to each breath–
it’s all I can do

IV

Standing in liken-strewn
oak branches watching morning steam
from fallen red, brown leaves.
Fog is a sigh as sun
carries its heavy breath away
from dew-stricken meadow grass.
Open palms in communion with
mossy oaken limbs and soles
of feet warm atop dirt I
wish I had a poem to write.
I wish this moment could know
how I feel for it

rain

that there is oxygen
in water… You can hear
the breath in the rain
gasp of awe
in each drop and see
the way it illuminates
a willow’s leaves in a moment
of breathless infinity

Imagine October

Just to see October,
the melancholic
strands of auburn
in her golden hair. To feel
the hint of bitter chill
in her romantic breath. Her scent,
inescapable: dry, leaf, orange, mulch.

Sideways, long-shadow moment watch
her in oak trees
as she so gently
undresses them
with merciless hands that even the breeze
is in love with.
Red brown yellow leaves
singing, dancing down sidewalks
in the tumble
of October’s assertive sigh.

Moon and midnight agree
with crickets’ songs, and they
praise October in vivid ebony skies
clarity unseen
by any other than October

Fall Equinox

Day lingers
in swaying willow leaves
Summer breathes
her last breaths as she falls
for dry, wooded breezes, Her
work is done & she naps
along with the other seasons.

Her last sun sets & the trees
offer fruits and leaves
to her magnificence.

The bay waters,
the willow leaves
golden as she breathes
her final setting sun breeze.

what is prayer?

Light mist
between my eye and the
white rose

Open the window

There is breath to behold

Wind

Piercing sky, I
am the tail
of wind

Walking on a mountain
path each
passing moment as lost
as any other, in all time

Desert wind
Mountain air
this now,
the culmination
of every breath

Content

Soft squint through sol-
itude. Awakening to sun breathing
gently on lavender leaves, petals.

Wider gaze sees
breeze
glistening in willow leaves, so
soft a song. Taking breath
subtle as if sipping
flute sounds.

Fog swirls, steam sings

Words pass

Limitless

Spring breath; a
meadow green with last
week’s rain, dry
with this one’s heat.

Waking up, I close
my eyes and breathe blooming
flowers, sit to pray
on waterfalls and let breeze
conduct bloodstream.

Morning doves awaken
with roses, their song
the same
as the rose’s bloom.

Midday in the city.
Thoughts clanking. A breeze
breathes me in
to still, green,
flower meadow

The Musician

Breath is the bow
Body, the strings
Listen to your song

Bustling in the streets,
symphony