Not enough for me
For anyone
To explain the sky
To bring you down
To lift you up
Our horizon runs along
A crashing surf transforms
To lap at the toes
Of dancing sandpipers
Dragging grains of time
To the Earth
Farther below
I hold you in my heart
High above my head
You caress the ocean
Far above crashing shores
Leaving messages tattooed
In Heaven's forever
Reverberating frequency
It never ceases to amaze me how much
is taken for granted
stars were assigned their transitus
before the beginning of this age
still and deep
congratulations are in order
at the newest discovery
of human achievement
You think this ain't love?
Sounds float up from the street
Speed Street; O'Farrell Street
streets are streets
upon their surface
paths do meet
by chance
or precisely manufactured plan
That probably ain't love either, huh?
The coloration of the flora
blooms and decays; blooms and decays
over a matter of heat
through these calendared days
from May to May
Accredited to which law; in which universe?
Poetry grows on trees
Pictures are manufactured by bees
Buzzards circle the cul-de-sac
for reasonable rates
(on home loans)
“Eww! I hate it when he goes dark, with these.”
Honestly. Is love too playful for you?
Time's gear house is running down
-Happens every so often-
so say the shaman of the maize
so say the cosmic cats
with their focus of eons away
purr and chirp through the haze
all through the night
as the sky gives way
Love is light
