“Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.”
Matsuo Basho
The Wanting Space (Revised)
Miles of trekking above the timberline to stockpile a vision
Tuned me in to the fertile valley of the deep,
Seasoned the endurance of my heart space,
And led me to this blooming meadow
The Salt of You
Stories that remember your body
are new to me
but memory gravitates and I flirt
with the idea of dipping into you
one toe at a time until
at long last,
I am submerged in the dense salt of you.
Two Hips and A Doorframe
Don’t consider
where the road leads
Just. Let’s. Walk. Together.
Both in and out of time
Your hip is on mine
Bound for Corrosion
Fuse me, the magma in my heart,
To the fire core that birthed this rock
Where once upon a time
Lava loved forth like a fluid firework
Like an unreasonable river
Only to eventually cool solid.
Somewhere Deep: Taking Back The View (Part 3)
I’ll be here
When the outskirts of stability blend
with the disorderly flurries at love’s windy precipice.
I will dive again
Somewhere Deep: Looking Up (Part 2)
I’m gazing up at them now:
the premeditated,
the unplanned,
each one, a unique trajectory.
Oh, the joy of watching the lovers
who resisted
with all their minds’ power
And plunged anyway
Without you
As time would have us
There is little of it left in this pose
Where the you to me is overgrown with speculation
And the in between has more to offer than you ever did.
Somewhere Deep: Overcoming The Edge (Part 1)
All at once, I was bathing in a thermal breeze,
Warming numbness with newness,
Drunk on the swirling color
That still rises from somewhere deep
Flurries of carnal exhaust took the shape of nothing
And the color of everything
Into the Backdrop
In the partial shade or light we could sit there
Could we sit there? Guarded by the color still hanging on?
In sun-pierced red and yellow:
Me on one side, you on the other.
We could forget about the tightrope and explore the light and dark of in between.
This Wanting Space
What exploded in chaotic color
Now has a devoted space on the walls.
Visitors stop to wonder at it,
Connecting with its forms and blushing tone