as i stand
as this column of light
as i move
through this nature
through this place
through this time
this leaning
into what I cannot see
informs me
this feeling what my eyes see
so deep in my being
press of air against me
expansion of sound inside of me
pooling of spirits
at unrest in my heart space
watery feelings
feathery sensations
reach outward
through my grasping
connecting inwardly
with the skin
of this tree
of this stone
of this stream
where my sole makes contact
with the mother of all things
joining us together all ways
uniting us
beyond our capacity to choose
beyond our discomfort
against each other
in spite of our sensitive skins
our cold feet running
like the clear water
still finding its way
downward, always downward
against the mother
into the womb
of the sea
(One of many faces along the Trail of Tears, this one along the Mantle Rock Trail in Kentucky)
Friday, March 14, 2014
Sunday, March 9, 2014
An Invitation
An invitation
to this rock
to this now
leads me across
the gentle water
diverted from the river
by a boulder island
to this diurnal bat
grazing the air
drinking from the river
and finding suspended perch
in the sap green boughs
of a surviving hemlock
to this nest-building Raven
patrolling the corridor overhead
keeping watch of passing vultures
along Raven Rock
to this trickle
over moss covered stone
glistened with wet silt
to this garden of shade
where cool, damp air
brings me home
to my skin
where the weight of me
resting on this flat, sunken
garnet-studded ancient being
is pulled as by a magnet
merged, matching coolness
meeting texture of skins
mosses, glint of mica in late sun
and this River keeps sliding by
to this rock
to this now
leads me across
the gentle water
diverted from the river
by a boulder island
to this diurnal bat
grazing the air
drinking from the river
and finding suspended perch
in the sap green boughs
of a surviving hemlock
to this nest-building Raven
patrolling the corridor overhead
keeping watch of passing vultures
along Raven Rock
to this trickle
over moss covered stone
glistened with wet silt
to this garden of shade
where cool, damp air
brings me home
to my skin
where the weight of me
resting on this flat, sunken
garnet-studded ancient being
is pulled as by a magnet
merged, matching coolness
meeting texture of skins
mosses, glint of mica in late sun
and this River keeps sliding by