~ Before Human Thought ~

Imagine this earth before any living today can speak of.
It is the elements that have always been.
Mountains eroding slowly to the beach as grains of sand.
Imagine this earth as it was before.
When the air has an unrealized fragrance .
When birds awoke to the same sun, nightingales sang lullabies under a moonlit sky.
Waves washed ashore seeding another beachhead with treasures from a distant land.
The stars in the skies were farther.
Life moved with this rhythm becoming with the dark then waking with light reaching into the blue .
And here I sit writing a thought of spirit not a philosophy.
There were eclipses seen by the tall grasses, they seeded back into their earth, their meadow sent a collective wave of colour to an evening of stars.
Then somewhere a lake reflecting a world speaks of the rain~ memory of being taken inside by the tongue quenching a thirst then purring through emerald eyes under a canopy sky, full of stars.
Sighing, the lake reflects another sentient piece of earth skyward.
And here, we are in wonder of what remains encoded.
In our bodies, as memories, finding another that understands, gifting a puzzle piece into your palms.
This picture familiar so clear mercurial and alive. Goosebumps rise when we sigh into a starry night .

Were we uncommon

Are you watching the stars.
Are you under the covers warm with the light that bends around this earth.
Which touches the disk in the sky, called by many names through the earliest of eyes, which gazed then bathed their cool body under a river of a silver sliver of opalescent moon.

Taken; you lay, held wordless as this crescent grew to a fullness,  then hungrily waning away, a thirst to follow a rhythm of changes.

Are you watching the stars. Forever never changes, an orb that becomes change. Consistent desired primal and true. Carnal peace a stone that fits upon the body flows .
Phosphor light filling a rhythm.
Were not for the winged iridescent curious creatures born absorbed with the celestial colour.                                           Were this not my body that painted from a moons glow, were this not a memory, where from a wind carried thought through an evenings vesper.

Would not my piece of being fit so well into your wish so perfectly. That we would be as once, no one living today uncommonly remembers .

10 – 9 – 13

Light is wordless

Light is like shadow
Night is like day
Moon glows on a dark star sky
Where the sun cast a shadow
Defining the curve of her body
Moon bathes light into this night
Light is like day , as night is the crescent moon filling

image       ~ Light is wordless ~

 

Light has a stillness, a quiet never listened to. Even behind its touch upon the trees quietly, concentric ripples of rings unseen, if only someone could read these pattern of shadows. Even then the quiet goes undisturbed. May be this stillness captures the ebb, a faraway memory of a season past fresh, a different hill top, a memory similar when light spoke with a golden glint. Upon finding under a majestic piñon droplets of fragrant amber sticky with a curious bug incased.
Light is this kind stillness, warm between when touched, wordless light rides layers carried on a breeze from a far away ocean salty, meeting with a warmer breeze may be from a canyon filled with date palms, blending a cool and warm taste across your cheek.
Light touches everything, wordless because light has always been here. Shadow likes light. Night can be light when moon glows under a darker starry sky. Wordless, no time but the playfulness of light and shadow has a stillness seldom listened to.

2 – 18 – 14

Quench

Quench ~

             I like the sound that quenching sings. where sound touches in a wordless world, quenching a soul breathless.  I like that soundless tactile of drying sand shifting through fingers, while a sun sets quenches the sightless horizon.     Like the way a wave quenches the grains of a dry beach yet again.

            Quenched sands glimmer a hand of stars between fingers pause. Quenching slow rains strobe a way,         where memory was found misplaced, once upon a sleeping city listens to the oceans subtle roar. And the pearl of a midnight sky pulses from lightning, a stillness beneath.

            Yet between, binds earth, the chorus of aural creatures, filling quiet undulation,

            quivers a nests beneath this pearl in a midnight sky.

          11 – 21 – 13

 

                 .                            image

 

Nest of a Birds Body

 

 

Still amidst birds singing under an overcast scalloped cover . Indulge a passion to rest my body upon this soft earth – till the bothers from a human nest I dared let be built inside my mind fade . To rest and sink into an emerald softness beside my breath – while minds eye rolls into the colourfull darkness inky dream . Sensing earth moving a midst above – penetrating blue sky slowly pulling apart by winds -sending a warm chill lifting away. Away into another reality inside spraying in an exhale a colour of breath through your hand printing upon a cave or the first fire seen when flames took on the shapes of earthly anima. I shall wait in the rhythm of a breeze – pulling each thought – like a bird holding a twig between reality . Then fly away once more with each thought and place that stick under the canopy of an ancient oak as a gift , while yellowing leaves shimmer like sulphur butterflies in the days shadow . Oh to shed these thoughts planted by others – from your heart eternal open your nest becomes once again , the shape of a birds body .

3 – 14 – 2013