The Beach

We sat on the beach

She and I

My arms extended back to brace me

She relaxed back

Revealing another talent as a serve as a

Beach chair

Each sense mesmerized with the landscape

We watch the waves of the other great pond

Kiss the sand and rocks

Some are smashing lipsmackers

Others are rolling beauty

Each has a sound all its own

Within the cacophony of many waves

The air is crisp and cool

A soft evening breeze cools us

After a hot day

All that’s left of the sun

Are a crown of rays peeking behind

The skyline of mountains and clouds

Pink and orange hues span east to west

And recede towards the west

Leaving only blacks, whites, and grey

Soon our suns sisters and brothers will have their turn to shine

As much as the physical senses are full on

In pleasure and noticing

They are only a part of the grandeur of the setting

Moved by the inspired feminine relaxed back

Feeling the rich masculine of support

In awe of the watery fathomless blueness

Laid open before us

Oddly enough holding its own earthiness

And grounding in its natural fluidity

Grateful for the moment and opportunity

In pure wonderment of life

Feeling fully present and aware

Knowing this will be a memory in a moment

The energy of this will live

Even a remembrance won’t find the details

The memory does not matter

We relish this sweetness and let it go

Into the breeze

It may find us again

Or it may not

Should it reveal itself again

It won’t be through adoration for nostalgia

We will know the way it lives us still

Hair

Hair

 

As she gently folds her head to the right

she pulled her Long hair from beyond her

letting it Drape over the left side of her body

 

within her hand her Crystal brush

gently closing her eyes

she begins her Ritual of brushing her hair

 

she allowed me to watch

i sat Silent,  transfixed

like watching Art in Motion

 still life in each moment

 

her Wildly red hair set off

against an ocean blue Silk

and the white and crystal brush

 

with Clear intention and patience

she firmly and Delicately guides

her brush through shiny Hair

 

first the Ends, releasing the tangles

from a day of Breeze

and a night of turning

 

sturdier knots require hands

with the Delicacy of a knitter

each strand finds its Perfect order

 

occasionally i hear

a soft Sigh of pleasure

Liberated through her lips

pure Punctuation on the bliss

 

Floating her hair to her back

her neck rotates Easily to the other side

to sort out the other side

 

with the same beauty and grace

the brush is guided

letting each hair have its Freedom

 

i marvel at the ease

a rich pattern Anew each time

a Meditation done a thousand times

a Mudra all its own

 

 

now the hair is all pushed back

with eyes still closed

the Quiet face rests back at center

 

opening her neck

her soft fingers ruffle the top hair

gliding all from front to back

 

it all drapes back now

One continuous flow

like a Waterfall

 

long brushstrokes start at the Crown

travel over the head

descending to the Very ends

 

her Ceremony for today

reaches its Finale

with a last Luxurious reach

 

the hair wand laid to rest for now

eyes open offering their Softness once again

Hair Dances in its own light

So Begins My Days

I awake with the morning light
The sun peeking over the eastern horizon
Often I wish for another hour to sleep
Sometimes I indulge the fantasy
Bury my head in the pillow
Pull blankets over my head
At attempt back to the darkness
Soon thought Emma is there
Wanting her ritual morning belly rub.
Her pleasure met, I rise out of bed
Feel the dawn muscles
Emma is ready
She’s definitely a morning dog
Smiling, wagging her tail
Her walk is next
For me it’s an easy stroll
To stir to the day
Emma is endlessly curious
Smelling everything
Ready to chase anything
I relish and commune with the rising sun
Soaking in the warmth and waves
Marveling at the blue sky
Perhaps a waning moon hangs still
An easy loop and back home
So begins my days

Speaking the Unspeakable

So often words are meaningless

when it comes to truth,

or love

 

They can offer a glimpse

Into the heart

And then fall woefully short

 

The grief of losing

A loved one

 

Awe and wonder

At life

 

So few can do it well

Still their words

The words

Of poets

and sages

angels of all kinds

 

They are infused

with the spirit

of the universe

 

To read them

to see them

 

Really

is to feel them

with all the senses

 

So that you too

become what has

always

been

Letting Poetry Come

How to express in words

when so often

words can’t begin

to convey

truth

 

Poetry

and prose

are often revealers

 

Where the words

and the space between

have roles reversed

 

Words offering an insight

an invitation into

another world

 

The world of spaces

is

where real meaning

reveals itself

 

The next time words

fall flat

let poetry

be the guide

 

Write the invitation

let the rest

be felt

 

The lightning bolt

in a moment
it struck unexpected
as it always does

the polarities

built and coalesced
over time

waiting

blowing in from all directions

seemingly counter to reason
but meeting on congruency
synchronicity following its own rule

lingering

there was no storm

no sense
of the impending crush
no discernible forewarning
not in the center anyway

and then it struck

as paradox and duality
soul and self
idea and myth
clashed
and obliterated themselves
in the sheer energy of contrast

the flash instantaneous

the burn in slow motion
as if the poles wanted to remain
but there was nothing
nothing
to grasp from
or to
only a yielding now

cherished forms of reference

buried in the brilliance
astonishment presided
nothing to say
circuits fried
senses unleashed in comprehension

one could only watch

as the limitless
number of pieces
blew out big bang style
there was no going back
expression had sat this course

there was wonder

in the surf of synchronicity
the sheer fierceness
that met its own maker
and tender

the thunder and roar

followed
as it does
sounding out the joyful fury
of life meeting itself in a
magnificent collapse
into the distillized empty
wave upon wave of
deep resonance

then the fresh sight

as all the seasons of the
egoic atmosphere that had
accumulated was gone

after attuning the eyes

and senses

a truer reality

this one too

may succumb
to the whims
of Thor