Of the Orb in Light

The sun as Golden Orb

           blanched clean by western smog

           crepes the light in its angle

shone crimson in blues

turquois in chameau

           a calypso of sorbet

            and asks me,

“where do you come from?

where are you going?  I’d love to hear

 your story, tell me everything –

 It’s not that I don’t know you

It’s just that I don’t see you

as you see yourself —

know that you can find me,

I am everywhere, especially here,

now with all of nature around us

bound by no thing

and no one, like

A fall leaf in the fog

of Autumn’s emergence

casts its fallen doubt

           as water ripples

           // the briefest moment //

a symbol of its life

forming final a time,


           in its finality,

only to give us sleep

           in the blare of Winter

           the length for which

           we – “

you can hear them now,

           in the light waves

           like ripples of the leaf.


© Thespian Drummer


I sing now in a key

           of awe and lament

           in this moment singing

Songs of memory released

and unencumbered by time

           parsing through me as I

           love in the face of loss,

in twilight never known

piqued from the fount of a

           simple look you dreamt my way

           dreams of past lives

they come in absolutions

           and the reckoning of wonder

           where I speak now in a language

I cannot articulate

where we exist in an absence of time

           of quiet, of peace and an overwhelming

           sense of gratitude edged in

the twilight of miracle

Like seeing the reflection of timelessness

seep through the sky’s canvas of blue

— from a lake’s alpine mirror —

           revealing: I am flayed

                       among the stars and their kin


© K.James Ribble

The Choreography of Birds

To the touch of your skin

            the summer winds

            become inspired music

                        to an endless realm

of Autumn dreams

In each movement of your hair,

            within the same breeze there

            accumulate the songs and

Choreography of birds dancing . . .

In your eyes

            there begins the

            soft notes of a daylight

            that engenders the Life Force

                        of every living thing

The delicate sound of your voice

            recalls the colors of an ocean

                        yet discovered in tropics

                        never sailed before

Yet the tone and timbre of

            your songs reflect

                        the umbrage of thunder

                        and all its majestic power

I am discovered and found within you

            ever present

            in my love for you

Quietly fond yet mystified by your

            regard for all that I am

            Humbled by your gaze

            Relinquished to you smile

            Surrendered to your

limitless kindness and Love


© K. James Ribble

Cannons of Elegance

The mountains

            like Soviet tenements

rest at the feet

            of the gods

the tundra lost

            in magnificent scale

at the Coast of Virtue’s venue,

            when we left the Caspian

Evergreens joust with blue,

            like time lost in parry

(movement and place)

            far too lofty among the trees

where colors cast in love’s projection,

            two and three meters of snow

cannot touch these somber skies

Inescapable candor, like

            a hornet’s nest in July

reminds me, before the folly,

            of remnant clouds as

love always takes precedence

            in the sunlit elevation of you:

A cannon of elegance

            in imprints of your love


© Thespian Drummer

alchemy’s abundance

Your abundance tastes like mangoes
allows the awe of allusions’ light

form the salts of oleaginous metaphors
from the look of your distant gaze

like a casual glance of a gazelle now
before the pride as they stalk their prey,

who would have known such passion
thrown to the winds of a simple

notion, can cast the spell of a shadow?
caught in the alchemy of your presence

I slip dawn’s love carefully across your lips

© Thespian Drummer


the sweetest calmness

            forms over me

seeing you here

            now, before me

listening to the music

            of your eyes

imposed against the blue,

            blue summer night

aloft on tethered wings

            I take flight

every time you smile

            swim the waters warm

formed by the fragrance

            of time’s miracle

now here with you

            enflamed with colors

that watch the curvature

            of your radiance

take me to a place

            your heart unfolds

            as I am

bound to you.

© Thespian Drummer

Bluescape of Stillness

As the wind,
in its soundless
bluescape of stillness,
flutters leaves in an
endless cascade of smells

the meadow’s grassleaf,
fragrant in its peaceful
countenance of poise,
shorn by my embrace of
a yellow-candled sun

so mixed with Spring’s
rout of gracious blue
in the rush of pines
around me blushed
in azure-true abundance

so immersed am I in your love
in the passion of your
meadows this open Place
in homage to your infinite
thrush of life held in time

-even for a moment-
you are countless


© K. James Ribble

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