NEST

Sun Trails

A forgotten corner above the woods
once functioned as a single stall stable
wrapped inside loose square wire fencing
behind a wide swinging gate
where under the Oaks
 a pony would enter and exit

Now gone, only faun colored limbs
float the canyon
clammer the dry hillside and woods
to perch upon the old roof top
in an indelible sunbath

stolen away
gloriously alone to witness

These first days of spring full of blossoms known
can tell you nothing of tomorrow
but, like a long distance sprinter
you will carry what you gather

you will carry what you gather

The box in the brambles on a hill, behind a fence then beyond the Oak grove...
and in a canyon
 is nestled away like a page in a  book
a  folded note with in fanning layers

there to absorb rays on sun taught skin
and drink in warm waves of baked sage, lemon flowers,  fine clay
until the calls from above begin

At the top of the hill
the orange setting sun half-penetrates cast stone walls with iron lace windows

like a fortress it keeps 

ghost green floors cool under heat 

Shapes of warm light project another box
through the window

pooling green in grout 

traced squares glide

around leg mounds of the immense carved table 

topped with one slender stem light bends to 
illuminated fluffy chrysanthemum fingers

Then feign to decipher the morph light shifts in a god's face
as you trace lines back to the hour of the stable.

-SK

Parade

your beautiful mind
in text, in visions

and your spaceship...


hovers

 dreaming of wings

Twilight again
we have seen a multitude
soul friend

fragrance bends time


my teacher, my teacher
something spiritual in it
old paths entwined-twin ends

both are teachers


and your ghosty toes

may tip
on down the line


primordially
woven

maybe galactic



this storm we are all in

time to contemplate, not stolen


suspension

not necessarily detention.

sheltering in a half-life, a half dream

love in layers




the risk


the other risk


set
shifts

passing grace

into the wild surrender

Space

You, like a deep still Lake

i sit in the morning fog wondering how to be more than the moon;

a magnet, but far away and mute

looking at objects and plants

so many

in my sight

i move myself to remember points of light from yesterdays effort

i saw the sun peek through white washed Eucalyptus wood

A plum volunteered black-red petals to shade my lids

and i lingered there

Another action to brace me 

alone with my dog

Solitude is creative 

it creates more aloneness

and though necessary and deep

nothing matters more than sharing this with you

your unseen face

my garden.

-SK

HU

 

...

Al Wadud, Al Wadud, Al Wadud

  

WALI

GREEN waves and a dot

travel



green

waves

and a dot

Open fields

drop

oceanic


feelings

glory trails

flutter

the green room
kissing eyes

what magical rainbows cross paths

illuminating soft haired grass

then slip
almost away


off shore the Wache bell swings and dings
signaling


keeping time

near and there


space with atmosphere

languid limbs, bone and skin

electric earth
between birth and water

that rests


and bursts breath
into me



you cant stop the rain,
moon button

it will come

absent fills
  signal
quiet rhythm suspends

reifies
lux sense
...
an ice cream nose
loved intensely

her stockings fell
but held in earnest

the benefit of the doubt
can stop the past from pressing in

...i want the present pressing in

the tender brings
an air of threat

trusting time, movement

to diverge from history,
herculean swan,
is a grand mutation

 time stretches until its time

You give what you need

but can you get
bell swings with the wind and waves
looking  back at you




waking up

            


warm silhouette
thank you


      

waves and a dot