WHERE I STAND Since childhood I’ve stood here, looking out as if waiting for something to appear. We are shorelines. Pressed by waves of thoughts, touched by winds of words, yet we feel safe in the safety of an eventide flow. We gather at sunset, remembering farewells while shading our eyes … More WHERE I STAND
A low wind without voice brushed the small third story window where she looked out. The ocean, not far away, lay clam like a lion dreaming of the hunt. Her bed, unmade. Covers tossed, evidence of nights trappings and the places in-between. She whispers a psalm from waking lips. Coffee completes the eyes … More The Next Step
There’s a shifting of power within the rivers down under surface. Where waters of no visibility present a flotilla of movable parts making their way downstream with the occasional restriction in the pathway to the ocean. Portions of land, homes, docks and various twisted debris move in silence and unbalanced order. Trees tumble and … More TO THE OCEAN
Ocean waves dissolve on the shoreline. Diamond reflections spread covering rock and sand. The waves are creative voices, a language transported, respecting time and mysteries untold. Their voices are soft, welcoming and sincere. Often we listen but fail to hear the message, the answers the recipes of common sense.
It’s a great river, pushing currents Grinding out paths where flow and tides Gain strength, rising then cresting back Working the heart, gaining speed Unable to stop, the clock its motion Simply fights in silence. Youth escapes from bronzed summer skin, Uncombed hair, footprints thought to last, Fade regardless of prayers, tears or anger. … More TIME
The very first time I viewed the ocean, its blue arms pulled me with selfish compassion, forcing me into its waves like a present being unwrapped. Without loss I pressed back, capturing the waters around me. Like a friend, long lost, or a home distant, the ocean released a language for me to open … More UNTIL NOW
The moons circled my dark night room, slipping in silent celestial paths until morning forces my separation from sleep. I cast off arms of blankets and wrappings as slivers of morning cross sharply over me. Cool air drifts over my windows ledge, satisfying my room with aroma, stirring the grasp I have yet hooked of … More ONE MORE DAY
It was a low tide. The aroma was of wet sand and seaweed. The rocks lay brazenly exposed, their sides speckled with barnacles. The water produced a ripple of waves; a motion of silence. A cellophane sky, yellow and pale white, spread thin over the horizon, appearing as a luxury of violence, like strangers … More FINGERPRINTS
The very first time I viewed the ocean, its blue arms pulled me with selfish compassion, forcing me into its waves like a present being unwrapped. Without loss I pressed back, capturing the waters around me. Like a friend, long lost, or a home distant, the ocean released a language for me to open upon … More UNTIL NOW
I am in the autumn leaves, the aroma of a passing season, the space between lines of days dripping from edges with sounds of violins mentioning my name. All paths look similar, like dream faces pulled from clouds; the sun marks me in the last of warmth. I am somewhere like a bookmark between pages of … More ALWAYS HERE
