I feel you
at the razor edge of madness
in the fierce break of waves along
the sea line
a half moon fading at dawn
in shifting shadows of endings.
I feel you in the sweet froth
and flow of memory.
In dark eyes that catch mine in
musty corridors of dreams
I see you
in the wild of wolves
the vigil of birds at my midnight window.
I sense you in sacred passages
where like phantoms we are lost.
art by Karol Bak
cover the sky with your hand
the summit of your palm is the moon.
Your fingers are streams of stardust
sweeping across ancient dunes
or the slender branches of willows
gliding through desert sand
soft and sediment.
Your words sting like bees that linger
thawing like ice on your tongue.
The heart of every woman you have
loved lives inside me
the cracking bones of beating wings
resounding against fixed walls
whispers of moments come and gone.
Recall my eyes as time,
you have lived here a thousand years
Life is a flinch of the
eye and love is a phantom
hiding in plain sight.
A sculpture of ice,
a thousand crystal droplets
strewn across the sky.
Touched by the tongue of a
a flame becoming the sun,
tonight I need to start a fire
I’m as cold as the midnight moon.
Courage is a leopard her cubs in danger
rushing forward without hesitation to face the foe.
It is looking your greatest fear in the eye
leaning forward, stepping across that
line you dare not cross, lungs bursting
thoughts racing, adrenaline heart pounding,
defending the defenseless in the arena of dread.
Facing the enemy, confronting the bully,
challenging the antagonist until the battle is won.
Celtic Woman by Mali
When I miss you
I become so small my body
could fit into the heart of a
sea bird begging salt with
its pulpy tongue. The scent of
sandalwood remains in a discarded
shirt tossed over a bed post where
I return and return.
The clouds unravel and tears rain
down in shades of eventide.
Keep me close in your heart like
the beating of a rhythmic railway
traveling snow covered alps
or the black tar of far off foothills.
Can you send me a sign?
As Pristine as the south seas
An angel without wings
I sent you a message
did it drift out to sea
I’ m watching I’m waiting
On the other side
All that I’m asking is
send me a sign
I wonder about your kiss.
Is it the taste of sweet oranges?
Now Spring hovers at my lips and my
hair is filled with flowers.
For you a crown of fern and twigs
plucked from stones of a river.
Wrapped in the arms of a gentle breeze
I fear we will never kiss
still my memory loves you.
A Little Night Music…
*Sophie Zelman: Memory Loves You
Leaning into summer
free falling adventure
hover in mid-air.
Tiny ballerinas too
light to bear their shadow
vibrate the air like the
laughter of children.
I open my heart like
raining down clouds to
the promise of spring.
art: Dawn Chorus by Bellavista
At the wharf I lean back against the damp stone wall, sip my drink and yield to the slippery salamander of sea. The moon is a glistening slice of melon, her whisper carries on the wind “moon child I love you too”. Sinking deeper in to my subconscious I watch a velvet sea bird swoop my reflection from silver waves where the sighs of lovers are lost in a monsoon. Old images flicker across my frontal lobe as I liberate sip by sip. That man with the golden veins doesn’t interest me anymore. Later when my pearl skinned body breaks the surface I’ll bring him back again.
art by Steve Hanks