Water in the ocean deep
pulled up from darkened depths
to the surface, out of sleep
warmed by sunlight once again

In the air into a cloud,
by wind blown to the eastern shore
not the first time it's allowed
to take to flight and steady soar

Back to the earth to furnish life
and slake its thirst for this day's rain
life's a stream of consciousness
that westward flows to the ocean

Setting suns each twilight brings
echo death knells, thunder rings

The edge of the horizon sends
its edge extending, never ledge nor end
where it should cease and dip
beyond the lip of the blue ring

Beyond the lips of summer nights
that slip themselves in dark delight
between the slits
of shivering venetian blinds
that draw at dawn when

edges that forever flight above,
beyond, out past where sight
draws light into its final Form
where only there anew it's born

Daydreams
you slip in
like spring
between
body and clothes

breathing cool air
on the spine

never face to face
closed off to
being close

Summer on the lips of spring
Sweet scents wafting, blossoms bring
Underground into the sun
Voices, refreshed, nature sing

On a winter's path at
twilight flits a ghost in
thin repose
gossamer, the silhouette
flights cradling
a silken rose

Drifting through the auburn
forest autumn on her
cheeks replete
furnishing love's
silent solace
drifting with the
perished leaves

she seeks you still
she'll find you not
   the petals
        f
          a
            l
              l
        and all in
                f
               r
          o
      s
t

From off the branch of an old tree
a tired rope swing sings the breeze
that travels over from afar
in my grandmother's old backyard

Intimating long lost ghosts
of children idly passing time
gently swaying back and forth
in a rhythm also I am

Shade in summer from the sun
mosaic in the autumn light
company for winter nights
glowing when spring has begun

Transforming mundane to sublime
of love, intermediate host
a gin and tonic with a lime
to raise to life and love in toast

A firefly inside a jar
I caught once, like a shooting star
beneath the tall and ancient tree
the first time I held you to me

If such a lie this life impels:
in love is out of time,
inarticulate to tell
nor codify in rhyme
A symphony of Cupid's bow
drawn taught against desire
impossible to keep in tune
with Orpheus' lyre
Then breath the Logos through my being
speak of life and death and sin
I'll ask of love and closer lean
and hear it not again
Yet if it's true, there's naught above
that we cannot outlive in Love