oh soul
pass ye not
left nor right
but sail on true
clear to that blinding bright

tears of those icy ghosts
banned from crying
in their not-bodies
frozen upon the mountain

i regarded a spider
large
disturbingly active in the cold
vaguely translucent
i knew not
its toxic potential to the mortal body
scared it away
from my sacred rock of sextile sin
waving a fallen leaf
and i regarded the wisdoms
of crushing an enemy totally
vs
the karma of such
both are brutal philosophies
yet the spider lives
action not taken
evil or no?
the circle of life default programming
is brutal also
whereas
an action omitted
is less affiliation with the brutal realm
there is no
might makes right
this is why it is named
might makes right
the diamond cutter draws another line

padded mosses
on the heather
sprouting up
despite the weather

swishing blowing
sighs the breeze
pods and stems
skyward tease

littered pebbles
strew the ground
staking claims
without a sound

over forest trees
hovering mountain peak
meadows tending wildflowers
measuring the sunlight
and strawberries to eat
never mind the chaos
in centered silence rest
pouring out of heart
and soul
dreams of bliss and now
meandering a thought
everyone’s a winner
heaven sounds a chord
ushering the space of
meditative mind

country stars
boast their songs
singing velvet skies
a breath taken
a breath given
a not-breath sustained
until
gray mists arise from the earth
a vehicle surfs
that thrumming throbbing edge
skirting those blissful blacks
teasing tingles up the back
startled by a wash
of vivid golden light
sparks and fireflies
vortex driven
random twinkles
swirling their quantum purpose
a face pulls back
slightly from the windowpane
another veil rides the winds

secrets
stamped objects
why are there marks on it
heavy
rectangular prism
rusty
hole through it
why is there a hole in the center
how old is it
why is it shaped like this
what’s it used for
what is it for
how was it made
why is it made
why’s it rusty
is it rock
what is it made of
why do they need it
what’s the texture
short lines
quick
(prism is pictured with wire diagram)
what is this from?

[ . ]
silence
not a sound
lapping rocks
frozen ground
stacked as spires
assaulted by an invasion of cloud
foggy fingers
probing jagged fissures
caves and canyons
cascade icy spikes
glittering down
the rocky walls
powder white
gently falls
appearing out of nowhere
like magic in the mist
a few insects hum about
sheltered in the trees
and nixie had a little laugh
smilingly she teased
enticing me to play
soggy chill embrace
begging me to stay
frozen toes
warm heart
ringing joyful tone..
[ . ]
..oooOOOOMMMMMMM!

ice capped peaks
majestic
a silent cosmic fortune
placed
for solitude’s delight

hiking in the western foothills
windblown and grizzled
i saw a squirrel
and a whiskey jack
and a patch of fur shed carelessly in the snow
and a dog who was actually a wolf
clear blue eyes reflecting the void of watchful tranquility
and on the way back home
a black muscle car approached me
all polished and shiny and trimmed with glittering chrome
air intake towering over the hood
and i lusted after the raw purr of it
and it must have sensed my desire
for it followed me
matching all my random, twisty turns back to yellow city
never passing
and when at last it drew up beside me
i glanced at the driver
and he was wearing a black suit
white collar
black tie
mirrored sunglasses staring right back at me
and i gasped up at the firmament
as the spacecraft phased in
a big carrier/mother/ship
a couple of classic rounders with a bump in the middle
frozen in the sky
surely
surely
surely they were clouds
my gaze snapped back to the agent on my left
but he was gone, gone
shaken now
muttering idly past some random strip mall
and the synchronicity rider spoke to me
of the astral plaza
and stonegate pub
where everyone was a wizard or a witch
shooting pool, ignoring tv, knitting
conversations running contrary to their lips
and i was four shades of shattered
opted for personality insertion
and ordered a pint of beer
kokanee gold

hail upon the roof
hammering
stammering
bouncing off the ringing tin
pounding out its frozen joy
skyward singing
from that rumbly grey electric heaven
letting go of something dear
is just the start of something else