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

Pretense of Dusk

From the selvages of innocence,

knowledge needing, she draws

to the edge of the sun

incised & contoured

on the periphery of time

bleached by the songs of

his longing, corbeled on

a pretense of dusk, the light

looming as she appears now in a forming

like frost patterns in glass

a geometry of fire

fractals of diamond, their stria

aligned & enflamed the way a shore

washes its stones,

a lullaby of calm [emerges]

sounding wave upon wave

from the Sipapus of life –

as he reveals love’s origins

in a plein of topiary forms

glistening in crowns of shadow

where the gloss of understanding

yearns for her evening heart



© K. James Ribble

æons Carrousel

In the delirium of time

here –   (with you)

I am

with you

on a star-bough’s ledge

of dreams


like an overture


soft and overt

forming a

deluge of stars, we

all in æons

of conception

aligned, giving birth

to us

–   in the infinite

drone of humanity

where there is love

in the fragile sounds of light,

a carrousel of pacific blue

shown like

the sullen sun.



© K. James Ribble


The Weightlessness of Stars

Around the frayed rim of time’s pocket

his hand toyed with the timing of what he saw,

the back-and-forth comforting somehow

in its precision, quiet in its simplicity,

the wind swaying the gentle fronds of her hair

collapsing the weight of his love for her

entirely into rhythm’s motion of each new wave . . .


The endlessness of space, he thought,

bears no witness to her

infinite beauty, the soul of

who she is – and all of it,

All but a faint memory:


the smell of the ocean air,

walking on this beach –

the salt on saltwater,

our meshed bodies

completing the etch of time,

a trailblaze of courage,

emotionally bound,

as a prelude to Before, watching all of it freefall

into the shelter of Now, this very moment –


As it goes, a momentary rift in

the rite of weighting, a revelation of distance

and connection, harbingers of what must

come to pass, unraveled without warning.




© K. James Ribble

The Promise of Autumn

In a bronze and lazy moment
the promise of Autumn
calls to me in wheatfield golds,
the core of her wind seeking,
speaking to me now in the
coolstream fragrance
of late summer’s exhale

an engagement unfolds
here, languid as the castglow
of her shadow, befalls
the epigram of fading time
lost in the absence of failing light
burning thoughts of you
into the pressed, soft lace of

a poised, and earth-aware grace
to which I am witness, and
again I’m found wordless in
the common man’s wonderment
the awe of sanctity noted in
this instance as you embrace my
heart in raised elevation of your love


© K. James Ribble

For Jason

In a pale meridian
clouds are chasing low
across the rainswept
desert floor, air as water
in plumes of ethereal white

bathed in sun’s blossom of
its plum and golden arc

it places me, waiting ,
in time
– my time ,
time-in-color from these hills
in a beige of savored light,
the relish of antiquity and
the dreams we
both honored
for ourselves

It is here in this place that I
hold you, hold you in this light
far above the listless sky
where its blues align beyond the
color of your eyes
– you – as Gift
only this universe can give

and the sun
in its blush of bloom

envelopes us both
in the love, the deepest
I have for you.


© K. James Ribble / For Jason, on his 23rd Birthday