Crescent Angel

 When the moon is high,
glide past joy
in that delicate glacial light
to the edges of the crescent angel.

Be courageous.
Let  your heart sing
knowing the depths
of your soul
have been given away,

the crevasses
of greed
gone,

the mountain
of kindness
ascended

and nothing left
of your spirit
remains
to be desired.

Umbra

I am a shadow of myself
as I ascend into the market
of the streets
after the silence of mind
in meditation.

I stop at the edge of the world
to buckle my soul into a safe place
for the path to enlightened dreaming
smiling, knowing all the others
who have made their way
before I will join them

chant with so much joy
as the prayers pour
through a voice
that is the light
behind the darkness;
the impression
of the hand
at the small of the back
of a partner
ready to dance.

Know that our play
with the shadow puppets of this life
is the abundant love we wish
to light at the wick and wax
 of each day.

The eclipse of heart
over thinking
is almost more
than I can carry alone.
Black is, after all,
the garmet
of all color
gathered
in one
weaving
of space
between the stars.

Fool's Errand

Deplete the reason.
Make the mind go wanting
in a whorl of  feeling-
the great unknown-

like the water rushing and spinning
toward the opening
of a funnel,
ready to syphon every drop
of kindness
from the day,

only to discover
the velvet comfort
of soothing words
that bypass logic
and the ways letters
find cruel paths
to make the strong
stumble and stutter
on a fool's errand

near the place
we always bargain
with joy.

Consumed

On the last day at the beach
I walk full of words
and full of love
that collects in me
like all the days
of a lifetime
in one moment

I am the sands
after the storm
that displays the beauty
and the bounty of the sea.

Shell, pink sea weed,
stones the size of a hand
and glass washed smooth
next to cages and bits of frayed rope
at my feet.
I want to gather it all in my pockets
and drag myself back to the inland
with my treasures
no matter how heavy
and cumbersome
they become.

It is my gourd of water
on the desert.
The spray of saltiness
on my lips
the longing for more days
like this day.

I fall to my knees
at the edge of the sea
like falling
vulnerable,
enchanted
and gladly consumed
by so much love.

Shining and Heavy with Love

I owe the universe a great debt
for letting my soul
return to this much
joy once again.

The payment is lengthy
and has me swapping slumber
and a single breath at a time,
gasping with pleasure
toward the end
of all endings,

each small coin
shining and heavy
with love,

until the fuse
of this lifeline
fizzles
at the frayed ends
of  these measured days

and releases me back
to forgetting
how it all fits

together.

3:07 a.m.

Shave a sliver
of this silver moon

from the dark of the night
and I will shiver

as you whisper
my name.

Wake me
with the breath

of your breathing
and I will moan

low in my belly
wanting more

than the imagination
can promise.

Seascape

Sit for a moment in silence in my chair
and watch the way the sun makes a firey red path
away from the horizon,
accurate as any explorer with a well worn sextant
on the sea where the shore is in sight.

Come to me and I will gladly give you lodging, a berth,
in the oakum mess of my hair
and in the arms that ache for the warmth
of skin.  This journey is so long
and the sea so wide.

My ship is so small.

It means something to breathe quietly
from the chair of a woman
who sails into new waters
looking for calm harbors -

watching the horizon
for home.

Caution is a marking on the bow of a stranger,
a signal flag
that cannot be overlooked.