Fish and Ships

The sea spray sprung high

as I dove in, right in, I plunged,

so far from land, and the vessel

only stopped once in the last 1000 nauts.

There was a sunken enemy ship beneath,

a remnant of a dream asunder,

yet before I could investigate close

a cloud enveloped me like a swarm of bees,

some sort of bayfish or martin,

I realized I had forgotten rope and air,

but my comrade swam down to me to tell,

and brought me to the surface.

Again, on the journey, the limitless ocean,

to one castle pond, to home, to Availon,

I could not go back with the knowledge,

of so many dreams of lost hope,

fallen to dim caverns forever under sea foam,

though I knew the secrets, it was all one body,

and the control board plied of concrete,

the seas still sprayed with the vessels of outlaws,

the people still defied the change,

and perished for the unforgotten hope,

for though the pages of time shall be erased,

the myths will never fail the free,

a memory exists like a fish in a sea.

 

 

 

Lost Dream

On the equinox I dreamt a dream,

I saw my love again,

He stared at me with angry eyes,

but took my hand in his.

What were the reasons, he asked,

How could you wander so?

Where abouts and whattofor,

life is love, you know.

Our hands formed a spiral,

as the clutch was so entwined,

been a shadow in my memory,

Since our two hearts aligned,

I tried to tell him in my dream,

that is not like how it is,

the strings that pulled my limbs before,

now I have been rid.

But now there is a forward momentum,

and I’m lost to the pull,

the road of return is fogging up,

yet the promise is still full.

It may be many moons distant,

it may be many years,

I know the world is smaller yet,

when the soul overcomes the fears.

Thus I stirred in the morning light,

so glad to see him once more,

no longer will I shed a tear,

with hope behind closed door.

Yet in the window of the night,

in the light and darkness schemes,

I’ll not let the feeling fade away,

I’ll not forget the dreams.

 

 

 

 

Crystal

“Light is the shadow of God’s brightness, who is the light of light.”

 

There is a crystal in the center,

Behold! The glint, the shine,

it looms so high overhead,

so clear, a quality fine.

Perfect and pure the translucence,

it may be passed by unseen,

and the secrets that stream the lines

remain guised by transparency,

But, behold! It is there, in the cave!

The deep, the dark, the gloom,

whose ancient sand and craggy walls

house the ones that loom.

The sun pours down the same old way,

perhaps the light will glint,

and the present fire, whispering of

elephant stone tables, forgotten pyres,

is by the sunshine lit.

The arc of the sun is wide,

the water and air are bent,

the cave inlet also crests,

and words always echo stringent.

The cave is like a busy eye,

the crystal like a ball of light,

and a pull of the tiny star

could turn a day to night!

 

 

 

World Clock

Always looking towards the clock,

so much time, and even more thought,

to fill the chasm, limitless void,

the eye, the ear, the mind have toiled,

the spirit reaches when the feet must rest,

and the mind remembers which of all were best,

the feeling of a place drawn across time,

the power in hand when motivations align,

the inspired song when the muses take flight,

the remorse when the light grows dim in the night,

the delight when the stars fall and fade,

and the fiery sun sweeps the brisk morning away.

in one direction every thing must fall,

the rhythm is surely without, withal

and whoever set the motions made man

a wandering ‘low sun soon as he began.

 

 

 

Lost Souls

How is the ship to catch good sail,

with no wind and current strong,

how is a soul to find its way,

cut like cloud wisps, then gone?

At least there is a sphere of light,

in the way things all connect,

And the lattice of the universe

is spun like a spider’s web.

Such a sea to be cast out,

how will the way be known?

By way of light, eternal hope,

may they find the right path home.

 

 

Birds in Spring

morning doves and whippoorwills fill the springtime air,

a song so sweetly enduring, as if in some despair,

through the night and first at dawn, no pause in the sweet tune

and children cry and lovers sigh in the limn of the low moon

 

the buds of May burst bright, the colors fade to thought,

urged away by more ancient tunes, like the summer sun grows hot,

the mountain shadows chill the wind, and the pinyon bird sings louder still

if there be no rhythm to time, there would be no weight to the will

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Poet’s Dream

Describe the dream in words,

that’s what poets do,

and the dream is like a piece of art

both sprung from the mind, these two.

A world of beauty in one glance

twisted fate and perfect circumstance

a current of deep waters, a dance,`

shining, colorful, dark…

The forms within are many

yet of materials so minute;

it is a wonder there is a dance at all,

yet the tree has taken root!

It is surrounded by a pond, emerald green,

and the blue white high above,

of life is the tree, it surely appeared when

a strong will became great love.

 

Silent Scream

Stuck in my head,

like that concussed feeling,

a sting behind the eyes,

an inhalation of breath

in a freezing night

an orchestra symphony

of minor chord disharmony,

the gut’s turn before the snake strike,

the coldest hour before sunrise,

before the light breaks through the ice.

 

Nowhere and everywhere left to turn,

to God and to the knowledge of the world,

a circular current from spirit to mind,

distant points and so many lines,

like the light at the edge of the sky,

the divine structure in the ice

and liquid water, bringing forth life,

that ancient familiar spark in the eye,

a motivation forward, this forlorn sigh,

and fortuitous when these elements combine:

Life tends to thrive after fires of time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heart of Gold

A heart of gold

is a heart as hard as ice,

and solid gold melts quite quick

and the surface easily scythed.

the luster fades like the sun,

as is the way with time,

it’ll circle round and reassure,

that it is an infinite light

the glimmer is only a reflection

a manifestation of how rays align

neither a fetter nor weight to bear,

as true as the blood veins flow,

in new angles the light rays shine

radiating from heart from the soul

from the hand and from the eye

and the depths that can’t be known

 

 

Either Way

Like a flash of lightening,  fallen star

the breath before the song,

as it contemplates the space ahead,

a swivel, turn, then gone:

It is a mind that falls to make

the planets all turn right,

and even forceful powers of fate

are reduced by the mind and finite.

With such ease it could have been,

a familiar Northern flight.

Not a moments time to bend

with so many ends in sight.