abhor circular time. clocks as monstrosities. dream eternity.
the immensity of everything. existence is elsewhere,
but life is here. in explosive silences, inexpressible delights,
truthful illusions, authentic falsehoods, slippery nights.
let sense and spirit sing a long song of your knowing heart.
exiled on earth in scornful times, become a bard of desire.
heart songs, earth songs, lust songs. amazingly human songs.
after all, flowers still spill perfume. drink it up.
study the mathematics of memory. the equations of living.
the trajectories of silence. the physics of poetry.
penetrate the disquieting muse. seek screeching squeals of joy.
all this has happened before. It will all happen again.
everything repeats in cycles, absolute and endless. return.
   dive into the infinity of the gyre.
   imbibe its cold, invigorating fire.

He pulls away, precariously balanced
above the raucous creek slicing through
the campground’s city-like togetherness

she protectively hovers, hands cupped
inches from his slender back, prepared to grab
honoring his need for independence

the crooked lodge pole leans
toward what little sun is bestowed
upon it by its larger brethren

a mother, a child
a tree, a stream
soft light.

There's a peculiar kind of beauty that can only be experienced
with the innate knowledge that the moment is fleeting
and the most intense beauty can only be seen in
the presence of both light and shadows.
For it’s often in the loss of a thing
that its worth to us becomes
most precious and by
letting it go with
grace we can
best savor
its purest
delights.
Realizing
that the pain
runs so deep only
because the beauty ran
so deep and that without
it having once touched us we
wouldn't now know the emptiness
of its loss, our grief will eventually turn to
thankfulness that it ever touched us at all, and
we will be left awed by the mystery of its haunting.

Laying down in deep sleep
I see you
looking at me
from across the room
a holographic image,
as you lay down, too
in your faraway bed
in your faraway room
but your eyes, locked on mine
this is what's close
this is what's true
I feel your gaze
upon my third eye
feel your loving stare
deep inside
it penetrates and weaves its
way between the layers
of my heart
slices gently
tears me apart
being in torrid distance
sometimes hurts
and sometimes
I don't feel it at all
because in a space
beyond the ticking of clocks
in a set of hours
that exists beyond locks
in a private universe
that exists just for us
you are right here
breathing next to me
your chest rising with each
deep, relaxed breath
your mere presence
catching
           my
               fall
and as your eyes
radiate love into mine
from that bed across
the zoneless moon
our hands reach out,
fingers intertwine
two souls soldered
in landscapes separate
yet spanning the waves
across time

(and our nightair kisses
fly like the tiniest of flowers
confetti gliding
voluptuously sweet
and unfolding
in raging, perpetual
         bloom)

I felt the sudden change in the air
As icy breath clung I was made aware
Outside my window the shadows fell
But it was too early for night to tell
Still it was cold and dark I know
Then came that knock upon the door
"Thomas , whom I come looking for
Won't you open up for evermore ?"

I shook with fear , for all the years
Suddenly I was filled with tears
I had always made my covered bed
And in absolution I held my head
Still you have no earthy clue
When comes that knock upon the wood
"Thomas , oh Thomas ,  if you would
Unbolt the lock now if you could."

I stood in silence , made not a sound
But by the shadow upon the ground
I knew he waited so patiently
Waiting ! Waiting , there for me
"Come Thomas , the seconds few
You cannot avoid what's in store for you
Do not bother looking for the key
For I have kept it safely here with me ."

I said I was not afraid of Death
That I would not bend in my final breath
Then I remembered my father's passing
How the stillness became so everlasting
And I knew I was no more special
That life is certainly full and spacial
So I opened up the door
"I am Thomas , the Thomas of whom you do implore ."

In the spring of warm grassy lawns, silver threaded
song sparrows high amid the bright lily bowers
they fly gold drenched in the morning hours
in the deep peace of this sanctuary shelter
we are far from the city's maddening swelter
here beneath shade trees and roses, we sip tea
we float soft as petals, a dream life in these hills
smell the ocean rain, blue the way the sky spills
we walk scented jasmine trails back home
come to rest in each others arms
before this resplendent day is gone
with nature becoming one
connected to all things
we are never alone.