Bound to crossroads tie where soul stands strong to go awry,
I find my missing person.
Lifted to one glimpse of you, I duck to hide the view,
deny this moment’s bought incursion.
I look beyond the epitaph that’s carved upon my head.
I see the scrolling dust entreat the road’s long line of thread.
Held to witless smile, wherein my peace remains a while,
I hope forgiveness granted.
Stoked from leeward ways of hell, I hear the knolling bell
foretell of all the pain there planted.
I squint against the razor’d sun that beads the sweat in dread.
I curse below my breath a prayer, entrust to Gabriel’s stead.
Drifted here alone, resulting from the life I’ve known,
I count out what is due.
Pained to bargain past the hack, I turn to see the black
regress through all the lies there true.
I count the locusts’ humming thrums that beckon summer’s dead.
I squeeze my aching heart’s parlay of lying back in bed.
Bought, the coursers fly! Amidst an ebb of dust stormed high,
I cast the prayer free.
Stilled to crossroads tying grit, I scold this honest bit
that brought this moment back to me.
I memorize the epitaph that’s carved from what I’ve said.
I hear my footsteps toil against the first push back to red.
So mark the sun, the road, the dust.
So count the hell in all of us.
So paid the price of what was mine.
So freed to follow this life’s line.
So my soul here granted.
Spirit’s heart at horizon’s length,
‘neath azure skies that strike the sound
of echoed desert silence,
does rise in rhythm, call in strength
to speak no lies and bless the ground
with feet so drummed, no violence.
Expanse of land and eagle’s call,
draws canyon’s echo above, below,
so still the morning air –
plunge to valley’s depth in fall,
feather swept in roll to show
the fabric of all living there.
Yet great expanse, by nature’s hand,
grounds the very soul of me –
blends me insignificant,
yet carries tall the truth I see.
This balance here, all I’ve sought.
This fabric found in passion’s tones,
bleaching red and grey in sum,
culling canyon’s echoed heart
and where imaginations run,
so in holds this lesson taught –
“We stand amidst these finer things
of nature’s truth and simple love.
We, but moment’s beating heart
to draw it in and…
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September rain in tepid dance
blessed to light on summer’s earth,
beckons season’s darkened green to
whisper death or call to birth.
Impassioned tender notes in falling
stroke “sensuous” in every chord,
as gently sings the rain in chorus
speaking love without a word.
This cooling dance, so much to gain,
granted autumn’s shy first blush,
relieved in subtle drops of rain
draws summer’s quiet sweetest hush.
In transit, life at season’s edge
is shaped in green and golden hues,
colored deep in heavy sky,
claimed in silent greys and blues.
Amber rays peak long and low
across the tender countryside,
held to rails in shimmered glow,
graced through gentle hills I ride
Silvered low and rolling mists
fold the raindrop’s dew to run
across my perfect pictured view,
there bring the scene to perfect sum.
Too soon to station platform left
alone in autumn’s gentle letting,
holds me fast in shelter’s lea
that if I leave might grant regretting
September’s rain and summer’s grief
in show before my eyes.
So a simple seat I find
to wait for some reprise…
Soon I’ll start the path to home,
soon I’ll turn away,
with season’s grateful heart my own,
September’s rain this summer’s day.
Across this windswept grand horizon,
nature’s form in lover’s bliss,
mountains stand ‘neath sun in rising,
entreated by this dawn’s sweet kiss.
Rapture lain around my feet,
great blankets green of fir and pine
awaken to this morning’s passion,
call for love of life, and thine!
How shallow could a man’s life be
if not entrusted to nature’s bed
where sensuality heaves in motions
of grandeur swept and sweetness led.
Here in the heart of love’s emotion,
breathing calm this morning breeze,
kindly granted sun’s sweet kiss,
enrobed in green and mountain, pleased…
Every moment’s living
pull’s a thin red thread of time,
unraveling temporal precepts,
stitching worldly mind.
Embroidered concepts fall away,
their threads drop to the floor,
imaged history just remains
in stains once stitched before.
Collective soul is fabric stretched
across the living span,
tensioned smart by good hearts there
and held by loving hands.
The tapestry, taut, is ours to fill,
ours to so design,
to color by our soul’s sweet purpose
and stitch in finest lines.
Yet blunder we, in stab or two,
tie a knot where none was due,
prick a spirit’s finger there
hope forgiveness grants repair.
But loving souls in holding taut
the fabric of our lives,
do guide the pattern’s tender care
if we, with open eyes
move on toward dreams with love,
move on beyond the fear –
trust in truth the needle’s dance
will grant good stitching here.
On walls in heaven’s quarters hang
the fabrics of our lives,
meant to show our purposed soul
embroidered by the dreams we try.
Drawn between the mountain’s shoulders,
meadow green at alpine edge,
where just a call below does beckon
the open sea in echoed pledge
to kiss the mountain’s kneeling hands,
subdue the length of running streams,
vow love and honor for all time’s sake
and tender sure dear mountain’s dreams.
At meadow’s edge midst first row fir
I’ve built a safe and humble stead
with sage and prairie grass my courtyard,
alpine boughs and earth my bed.
Beneath the shoulder of mother’s mountain,
yet bathed in father’s sun I make
a solace for my soul’s protection,
where harbor truths, and dreams do wake…
Deep green, this pleasure seeks no balance,
for needless when my nature’s true
against the granite ocean echoes,
pushed by whispered pines and you.
You who’ve blessed my life in living,
wherein my dreams do conscious cure
and lift the weight of day’s task meaning,
thus bless the values truth, ensure
my heart seeks life’s desire,
relinquish tragedy and time’s misgiving,
protect and keep this blessed love
and in such bathe in your kind giving!
My love, forevermore…
Beneath this giant’s green relief
the best adventure shown,
between the covers of books untold
are truths of life so few have known.
With aroma of a warm elixir
mixed throughout the pages,
here spin the spirit fat
and mix such with the stuff of sages.
Breezes top the canopy
above this place in time beholding,
treasures of the grandest sort,
stories read and poems here spoken.
No time holds fast the element
by which this purposed moment’s dealt,
so in reveals eternity,
in timelessness and color felt
between the musty pages
wherein so many hearts have thrilled,
or swooned in love to spoken words
and thereupon such goose bumps chilled.
So deep within a moment’s honey
run sweet the blessings of book and tree,
beneath a giant, green yet sunny,
wherein my stories’ told for me…