Your Symbols

            In a stolen glimpse

            of sun

a momentary place

in the quiet voice

            of Time tapering,

A crescent moon descends

like a subtle calculation

of kindness

in stars –

            and the horizon,

like the cloudless sky,

plies the night in

a great arc

            an involuntary urge

            of earth’s visionary

presence shown


as the shrewd and

altered Light,

            the trace of your love.

Evenings Hush

Tattered grey of Winter

            a nova blue stillness

in silence

presses softly

           into the underbelly

            of Spring’s awakening sigh

and the conifers, hirsute &

convivial in their denial of longer days,

            spend quiet the hush of

           peace unfurling like a song

of lightness placed nightly as

calmed the riot of evenings hush –

            there is no other audience

            in the diamond light

of star-swept kindness ministering

like the angels did so many aeras ago,

            in the wherewithal of white, as a

           resonance recoils in the spark of day

           that announces you, my sweetest love –

birds in early winter

In this constant crossfire of light

           I wept before the incline

           in the garden of feats, my own

discovery of you Across the ages –

Now the soft glass of morning light

           seeks the kindness of night

as lofty views seek the cream-grey flutter

           of birds in early winter

where morning’s caution brings

           elegance to the river-blue outline

of time passing in the moments I

           cherish in my thoughts of you

the phylum and story of these

           minutes rest softly on my

shoulders in a procession of its own density

           left to linger in this quiet mindfulness

adept like a memento’s recollection, where the

           objects of my vision and vanity are

humbled by the depth of my own awareness

           as I seek the dawn of your understanding:

assured of my rest – our time is coming


Walking with you in the vast open desert,

            time’s ancient blanket is spread

           like an artist’s pallet before me,

all Earth colors laid bare

            below these mesas in the canyons

           gripped in a cult of curated light by

clouds’ initiation of autumn’s morning air – the

vaporous smells of ancient lands walk with me

           on this path of stone and sand

            the marvel of sun slowly rising

stark with the afterstars of

           dawn’s glistening light

           an enervation of shadow

lifts magnificent a sublime indifference

of glowing form, the rocks of this place speaking

            in tones deep in the same saffron and sorrels            

           of your perfectly canted lips I kiss . . .

The Infancy of Light

           In a pool of vacant blue

seams of light lay lost in

sleights of coaxing gathered by

           the gambol of their movement –

            swinging daybreak to dawn in

a crossing of scarred clouds – the new-day sky

repelling soft pinks in grey reflections

           found in the suasions of morning

           [discovered in abstraction]

and I feel the inertia of awareness as

prurience – sensual and erotic – flowing

            over me in a calligraphy of smells

           of woodland tundra, this mountainous innocence

bought in emblem as an infancy of Light

held in construct bold with perpetuity –

            and find love’s banner in the evening’s reproach