Sacred Mountain Dust

sunset_lake_mountain_scenery_landscape_nature_water_natural-1350240.jpg!dWho has the ears to hear
your sagebrush story
of death and rebirth
growing in your gut
as the world rolls on?

Who has the time for
a mountain moon coyote
howling in your bones
as the world floats on by?

Who can feel the warmth
of a juniper bark fire still blazing
beneath your breastbone
as the world turns?

Who has the eyes to see
the wild paw prints still
tracking across your heart
as the world races into the future?

Have all the sharp voices yet
drowned out that clarion call
clear as the morning star
pulling up the sun?

Have all the rough rags
of the routine already
washed you clean of your
sacred mountain dust?

Or does a little speck remain?

Does a bright song abide
within the heartbeat
of your delicious desert dawn?

If so, let it be the seed note
of your magnificent symphony
sprouting through the
concrete of the world
as it pours itself along your path

Mud Green Flowing

Every week or so I harvest a few of the micropoems I wrote that week, often inspired by nature or writing prompts (such as @Microprompt and @WrittenRiver, or my own new @NaturePrompt, on Twitter).


img_2896My creek overflows
from mad rivers in the sky
on loan to the earth
for a while
everything is mud
and green
and flowing
my three favorite species


We run free
in the pine grove
among abandoned farm equipment
no time exists
only play
with frolicking raccoons
sharing secrets with
sunset bats and possum people


the trail unfolds meanderingly
for days
until something ancient awoke
in me, shouting
“I am mammal
clear & bright
made to move”


I never could
draw a dream
but that’s ok
because I have
words
and the space between them
holds them up
like an offering


At this hour
before he who wakes us
opens his eye on the world
nothing has yet stirred
a moment of repose
the source of the ten thousand things
crisp silence
ripe stillness
will carry me through
the doing of the day