shall i look there for a moment’s peace?

peace more enchanting than an autumn day,

which inscribes walls of marbled mountains,

infuses air with temperate atmosphere,

and ignites the fertile flow of lava.

perhaps if that distant spirit yearns,

to grasp the vessel of soil and stream

and pour into its final elixir

the path of single departure,

i shall go in.

for what is peace but the thread of loss?

the fabric woven by rumble and lash,

to create silver – a gentle veil

showing the rich spectacle, 

of that blinded bluebird. 

*    *    *


it may not serve the boy,

with heavy limbs and

hungry heart,

to rest upon his mother’s lap

to live in ease, to feel no pain,

as earth erases below his feet.

how dare he please,

to live in harmony with this land,

harmed by none, questioned by few

to bathe in ceaseless waters,

and rest in ethereal silence.

he need not chase a heroic deed,

that mutes thunder and breaks storms,

only to have his name

sail beyond the twilight zone,

and glisten among the eternal heavens.

but through treasure and wane

he may create the steps of his unknown

to climb deeply within its corridors,

grasped by human thought,

damned by human woes.  

to keep his balance, though,

through time and space and

this blasted place,

may he keep his feet in rhythm:

one, two, one two.

his arms in stride:

three four, three four.

his heart in beat:

lub dub, lub dub.

his mind in tune:

            swish                           hum.

            swish                           hum.

            swish                           hum.

*    *    *


two cries on the northern shores,

and i may hear both

when one bellows, its steady tone

shudders my toes,

and the blood below my skin


but if i hear the other’s whisper

perhaps it may rain

and wash the wish of today away

through the reigns of my thirst

and cleanse my ears for


more coming soon.

Using Format