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

Forest Poet

forest poetThey’re casting for the role of forest poet

I wanna play the part
weaving words like vines
that look into the face of love and fear
among the redwood trees

it’s only slightly mad

not on any high school
career-planning curriculum
college major quiz
or drop-down menu

I wanna play the part
of the forest poet

have morning tea
with animal allies
and titillating conversations
with flowing creeks

Notice how the light
and shadow dance together
playing tricks
on the leaves of
unfurling ferns

compose poems
as medicine
for a world caught up

a bit strange
they say

stranger than sports fans rioting
black friday madness
or making gas-powered leaf-blowers,
landmines,
or little plastic scented trees for cars?

so let others play the part of
politician, programmer,
engineer, janitor,
office manager, military officer,
designer, carpenter,
athlete, mailman,
gadget-maker.

They’ve all got their place.

It’s just that I wanna play the part
of the forest poet

I wonder, is it needed any less?

Knock on the Moon (Full Moon #6)

IMG_4305Once more I step into the sky
and knock on the moon:

“Knock Knock.”

“Anybody home?”

“Would you like to come out and play?”

No answer

Turns out there’s no door on the moon
Number of entry points: zero
Only craters that masquerade as doors

the moon is a unified solid mass
a moving mystery
who reveals herself in phases

And bereft of water

That’s what the earth is for
and why it is misnamed:
should be called Planet Water

Do you ever wonder what would happen if
some stray drop of water
from an earthbound tide
would be drawn to orbit
and slowly seep into a tiny crack in the surface
and find its way downward
into the heart of the moon?

where a memory of that ancient collision
remains buried in the bones of her lunar body
that awful planetary cataclysm that birthed her
and split the primordial union with her mother?

It’s amazing how long a hard rock
can go without water

It’s amazing what water can do
given enough time

For now, a crater is as deep as one can go
with no doorways to knock upon