Watching from the Field

Me over my dead leg, quotient of the ocean
It's a question of protection while I'm peaking with the spoken
The psalms songs and stories are a sequence of problems
Life's laws outstretch as we're seeking to solve them
Without the sealant of solution we may crumble & fall
Stumble and stale, rupture within rounds of applause
Bite death down during a silent exposure
While the all supposed master meets the starlit composer

Boy this world is an oyster, girl this globe is a pearl
And in it's changing and transitions we travel far and unfurl
Our very make and mold redistributes each day
As desires of dawn fold into yesterdays fate
May we function awake, lead and seed demonstration
Never hold, hesitate, or let it breed to stagnation
For life is a fluid whose only anchor is flux
And it's moments of time likens the changes of us

Let it seethe, let it beat, and allow it to shine
Give it all, push along, to and fro for and by
For in unwritten benediction we indulge or deny
It's many forests and fires
That sculpt our eyes in surprise
From the murkiest mud to an unearthly light
The stone littered gulches 'neath the highest of heights

How can you deny each an all deserved rights?
From the loneliest cold of those greying and old
Alive in regret from never seeing the world
Or never cherishing dreams that may blossom or die
And inhabit the wise territories of skies

To the postulated person thinking in terms of the church
Looking for forthcoming flight, denying mid-evil urge
Paging the scriptures by order marking the sentences bold
All the while without smile his mind is dreaming of gold

The aristocrat thinker, terming what's best for the team
The adolescent scraping dollars frictioning way through his teens
My eyes glow and glisten to celebrate free
Out of each and every one forms an image of me
You see...All these people are alter aspects of me

I watch my children from the field and it likens to love
Whose forgoings are distant, whose renewals are plush
With all that's witnessed still so much remains untouched
By the image, the word, the pen or the brush

Mother of Life

Mother of life I prey to you
I prey that at the hour of death you take me on your wings
Let it be a moment when your crescendo upraises
like a hawk riding winds to the summit
Allow the highest note be hit when I close my eyes
So they can forever be open to your boundless wisdom
Free of time, free of sand, free of sadness
You alone are and in my deepest knowing there is no loneliness, rather ecstasy
There will be no droopy eyes at your banquet
No aching hearts at thine feast
Or enemies in the seat of thine perfection
In life you have chiseled me, ready and fair
So deconstruct me as you wish in death

Let death be the dawn of a new day
A day where barrels of cannons endure a purification of rust
While the wind howls through the trees, composing it's mysteries
A brief resurrection of the things we have forgotten
Let that day be a celebration without indulgence
Rather, a fresh mark amongst the tallies of creation
Carved
In wood before stone
For stone bears dust
While tree bleeds sap, a tear of renewal
Let each coordinate a temporal dance, to fade only when one is appeased
When his hunger is full and her thirst quenched
And throats be not left dry from song because the fruit is ripe and willing
to collapse under ones teeth and gush their living mercury

On this day of death, of my coming, allow the planets abandon their old spell
In order to resonate with a hum that sources from self knowing
When ones individuality is discovered and fulfilled
May the nights lose their forsaken residue and unfulfilled longing sour to the home
rather, be made still so man can know the harmony of a day properly lived
with mirrors edging each bedpost, allowing a stare into ones radiance
smiling with deserving gratitude upon his own master and the master of us all

On this day life is not a past tale or a moment of memory,
It is a hot meal
Cooked at the hearth of ones well being
Sparked by the flame of compassion
Consolation finished
Happiness becomes unchained and willingly fleets in it's many directions
Leaving Life a colored spectrum
Flying on the wings of perfect expression
Saturated in the honey of wonder
The ocean of tears is soaked into each heart
and in a language lush yet embracive
Sung out into the megalocosmos
A song of humility & unity
of life & rebirth


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Path Walks Itself

The softest love
A field of bright red
Rubs my chest
Caressing the tight

Rejuvenating scars held
Leading this deepened root
Engulfed so no influence reaches me
Reaching my heart back
Into the return of life

Roads are traveled ambitiously
Until ends are sought
Spindles turn and suddenly
A spoke is seen to bend

Such is my owned path
In pacing the plotted trails
On and off this worldly map
The treasures of it's crevice
Bright sculpture of public eye

Like matter moving through god
I seem to be gone all together
The stepping stones have lead into a sea
Symbolizing my disappearance to be full

Enveloping the steps And leaving the path
To live through me, and so before my final dissolution
I leave her a final rendition
An accumulation of all my practice

Scratched into the shore with a single finger
A symbol that is squalor to the deserved collector
And insult to the well to do
For it is neither of good or bad
Nor taken from books of wise or depreciated
I pause and draw my last mark to say
That the path walks itself