A Stark Introspection

The tide that has washed my life
     these past few months
Recedes
Leaving the inlets of my world
Exposed.

No longer the submerged desires
     of what I hope for
But rather the sharp outlines
     of what truly is.

Why is it that this rhythmic flow
Certain as the moon
     which grows and withers
     just to find itself reborn
Leaves me feeling unmoored?

Am I not tethered
     to the gravity of earth
Beckoned into motion
     by the movement of the sky
Until

Washed and uncovered,
Cleansed and laid bare
I too find myself
     clothed in resurrection life?

Cable Car Colors

A single stripe of rainbow
Chased by the magic of a full-fledged arc –
       color to earth.
Shifting to
Cotton candy clouds
       and
The fading fiery orange sun
Sinking into
The vast stone blue of the sea.

In response to War Photo Limited

We break the world.

We crush and grind each other.

We smear violence across the face of humanity
       and sneer at suffering.

If we do not raise our hands
       in kindness and justice,

If I do not use all my strength
       to heal and rebuild,

Then the bullets of war are my own.

A tale of faraway places (and home)

From the floating sea
       (of clouds)
Rise the ancient spiny crests
       (of mountains)

There in the space
       between myth and moment –

I am reminded of all the world there is
       (and what I have not seen)
And all the tales that have come before me
       (and what I do not know).

summer

I can't decide which I love more –
the wide, blue sky of summer days or
the calm, thick stillness of summer nights.

a night walk

the soft sky

the bright moon

the sweet, cool air

the quiet song of night creatures

the wordless promise of restoration

Brody

The clouds looks foreboding
like they are tearing away from the mountains.

I see with the eyes I have,
grief-stricken and fearful.