Spoken Landscapes

Word Clouds

From the edge of the earth voices escape
into the air, and past the atmosphere.
Conversations of daily affairs, forgotten soon after leaving lips,
fly up into darkness embraced into silent space.
First words’ of humanity, the joy of expression
and the beginning
of the creation of the world
in each mouth.
Seven thousand different tongues are expressing what matters
and what becomes a global perfume.
This heady bloom of every spoken language
clings to thoughts that are carried away
like petals in a breeze.
Differences begin to blend in harmony,
into a landscape beyond translation.
The global effort to be known
to know, to tell, to show,
rises in the action of spoken hope.
Words, each a thought with a name,
used for love or abuse, lift their life into silent space.
Layers of every language become
a spiritual archeology of future deciphering
and linger in clouds that blend and unite all.

Waves of Time

You know this sea is not wet.
Beneath these waves is life of  imagination,
an inclination to think of gigantic mammals
that call crying, gliding in liquid darkness,
tiny creeping lives that hide in shells,
schools of silver and hells of hunting jagged teeth
and fins of fear.
But, those are not really here,
in the swells, foam and folds flashing up and down.
No, these are waves of time, designed repetition.
What is real in this sea, the landscape of what we see,
is math.
This path of numbers becomes waves of illusion
in heavens of elevens never severed
from codes of zeros or heroes.
The numbers flash ephemeral and slip away like seconds,
seasons and centuries to reveal what is real.
But, oceans of emotion color how we decide
to add up or detract in the way we act.

Our Own Inner Vista

The dream layers,
creamy abstract scenes
of prayers
are what we want to know.
Filmy coasts hold ephemeral striations
memory hosts imagined events
the headwaters of what we need
cascade down from the warm water
of our inner landscape
the radiant truth of our youth.
Essence of a good heart flows with
iridescence and reaches every nerve with verve and fire
as slender synapses flash desire.
Green lightning relic of ancient brain, breath sung blue in layers
the pulsing praise
repeats eons of heartbeats.
Sensual splendor smooth and joined,
aroused surprise, wise and wistful.
Our intimate dance seduces
intention, attention aloud a long
a lasting strong shared hunger.
Will and want, need and greed,
eternal untethered
tender shapes of desire:
get, give, live intense speed
perceived so slowly, it turns white.
An ethereal moan, a sob sounds from deep
in our own joined vista.

Landscape of Healing

Turn to a new way and
give the seed pod of possibilities
time to crack open.
Unload the assumption
that this road leads nowhere
because gumption is gone
and hope wavers on being lost.
With love, I will smile you unburdened
in silent devotion that lasts longer
than limping to the horizon.
Solace grows in actions of change.
Art and science are in compliance.
The wealth of health will be regained.
The future we create presses its body tightly to ours
in an embrace of speeding time.
There will be great calm and gratitude
of greening grace, free from qualms
like human psalms and you will go on  to do
what you thought could not be done.
We both feel this chill but it will
melt away in the warm muddy earth of our desires
lived as an offering.
Green shoots are sprouting vigorously
and the old trees of our dreams
burst into a bountiful bloom.
Soon fuzzy peaches,
frenzy of bees,
summer’s bounty and a warm breeze
will be us.
With renewed good health
all will seem the same but will be rearranged.
Hold on to Healing!   Get ready.
We can!    You will.   Now!!!
It turned around!!!!

Music of Silence

The soft lavender light of twilight drew near.
The aroma of green grass, Four O’clocks,
 phlox and smoldering wood
drifted on the edge of consciousness.
I realized there was a fire inside the tree.
Within, it snapped and roared.
Air quivered near the bark.
High above, within the trunk
above a burl, in a hole, I could see
the shimmering hot orange
as a swirl of smoke reached  out.
In the alchemy of an instant
a cyclone arose in my insistent heart.
It filled me with a numinous light.
Then the music came, red with a beat,
beatific and bright, that emanated in colors visible
and hidden in tones, radiating levels of intensity
that permeated everything.
There was not a human or creature’s body or plant
or river or dune without a tune, a time, a rhythm.
Ocean waves and planets,
stars and seasons, bees,
unfurling palm fronds,
hidden photons and electrons,
all played variations of music,
a symphony of cords majestic.
In a myriad of musical styles,
life sang and danced.
Time and space vibrated
in unique sumptuous sounds.
A divine energy and the pace of it,
the divine taste of it, entered me
and allowed me to see and hear
splendor in the storm.
The cords seemed to have power
to bring back the dead in a joyous
touch of redemption.
The unborn waited in liquid harmony,
umbilical cord of life, grace on every face.
The music is here, in silence,
our sacred days.

The Chesed Multiple Organ

The landscape of human physiology has seemed to be studied and understood.
Our university research team is excited to announce
the discovery of a new organ.
We call it the Chesed Multiple Organ.
Some organs rid the body of toxins, and waste.
This multiple organ saves what the body wants and moves in the bloodstream.
There are six hundred and thirteenof this microscopic organ.
You see examples here magnified one hundred times.
Associated with mitochondria, they form rings like a tree.
We have seen them grow a ring after a whisper of encouragement,
a taste of hot oatmeal,
buying coffee for a homeless,
soothing a crying child,
a ring grows when the body is lovingly touched,
while singing away fear, a ring grows
after a rescue, a ring grows
while comforting the bereaved
or with an experience of awe.
We are experimenting to find if this organ transcends physical death.
At the moment of death, they seem to coalesce
in the one hundred twenty two Fahrenheit heat of the mitochondria
and they become bright light.

Here Is Everything

You have made my mouth rejoice
Olive oil
crusty bread
pomegranate seeds.
Here is everything named
and unnamed,
everything we need
everything we never have.
You show the pupil of my eye:
miracles sung in silence, distant flying
Kingfishers, bees
all that lives and breathes
and comes and leaves under the hot sun
in love and creation and elation.
Animals, humans,
date palms, flowering gardenia,
and stone
together not alone, irreplaceable and radiant.
You enclose the wheels of all spheres.
Eternal uninterrupted creativity
our zodiac is a blink to You among many furious stars
as You think complexity far into peace.
Released aroma of ancient incense,
actions without presence glow devotion and emotion
and bestow comfort every seventh day,
the balm of hope is raised in the lamps of the Pleiades.
The largest sphere carries the burden
and remains imagined in an intuitive dream.


Lunar Tableau

In our reflective eye of the universe
lunacy laughs
in crazed shimmering beams of silver glow
and enters all.
Full moon vibrations are pulling and releasing
seas and lives.
Power quivers from the cold geography
of our cratered companion in space.
Wild sexual desire,
mythic moon rabbits hop in every heartbeat.
Wolf and snow,
worm and pink flower,
blood moon, blue moon, sand moon
and celestial ripe strawberry moon,
buck horns rub the trunk of an oak
while sturgeon sleep under corn.
Hunters, shooting for food, for fun,
were food for the moon
before their killing had begun.
Beavers build dams. Desire aches for love.
A sunset transforms into colors and tears
as lovers run from the garden hand in hand
in a year’s waxing and waning lunar tableau.

Hello Zeno

I see you staring at speed,
moving fast and going nowhere.
You are the arrow of your thoughts
in a velocity of impossibility!
Rich but ascetic,
a paradox sprang from you!
This trajectory was predicted long ago
but suddenly sank submerged deep
in the Mediterranean Sea,
a ship wreck of computability,
until now and wow!
We are riding the restored
Antikythera journey!
Recovered from salty deep,
The Majestic Machine has awakened.
We are waving the second law like a flag
and leaving concern for running out of fuel behind,
unconcerned about the end of time.
We are going forward in a landscape of instants,
cut away from details,
we soar on the handle of Occam’s Razor
blazing above electric waters in CME skies.
We sail soft unseen currents,
sons and daughters,
the sums of before
in this glorious landscape of asymmetry.
We are leaving everything in the past
and staying there ourselves.
Life takes no prisoners.


Butterfly wings open in jungle heat
that morphs into a humid gale
over warm seas.
Violent torrents travel thin altitudes
across a thousand miles.
Torment attacks in howling rain.
Dread power cracks, fury roars,
the wind engine
sucks whole trees out of earth
roots exposed.
Houses splinter.
Cars lift, driven by air
to crash somewhere
A shoe speeds in pelting rain,
walls breathe.
A mother covers her whimpering child
in an empty tub.
Men pray who never prayed.
Deafening darkness,
searching flashlights, fear.
The dog whimpers.
Snakes and swallows lift
together tossed unnatural
in nature disassembling itself.
Maelstrom flood and roar
chaos shoots a single straw
through a glass window
like a needle.

Landscape Of A Kiss

Another world, a real place, a body, a face, a fate.
Aroma of attraction, excitement of sight
the promise of pleasure, realized might.
Intimacies flood inner rivers.
I believe in you,
I will protect you,
I am you in the earth of good
in the genius of joined laws
in this eternity.
A fire draws near
in words on the tongue of need
from deep within another
and it swells excitedly
over the banks of limits.
Electricity of heady aroma,
vetiver veracity, swoons pressed tight
on the lips of a promise,
a pledge on the ledge of both falling to become.
But a dark void veers tangible and fear opens.
Strange fire leaps out of the maw.
The dangerous essence flowing into presence is ignored.
The abhorred enemy of union is thrashed away by desire’s
A silent oath lifts up and out.
It dances transcendent and climbs airy ups
unbound by gravity
higher, into wispy bright sirrus.
Spirits merged transformed delicious
coming, going confused aroused joy.

Landscape of a Question

Submerged fabric of the ancient sanctuary
red from pomegranate,
purple from forbidden rice,
blue from mollusk shells,
white with light,
folds and winds in prescient currants

A question forms in the cocoon of my will.
A question is a sacred thing,
and a human thing.
The answer is happening.

Journey to a Decision

If a necessity has music,
you hear it.
You smell the burning of obligation.
What are you waiting for?
You know what to do.
A wave of urgent requirement
rises before you.
You see it.
You want to act but doubt
holds you back.
Everything up until now
prepared you.
And; no one else can do it!
The fireworks of your action
reach high
to fulfill the need
they fall
and leave a glow a halo memory
and you know.
That delicious taste in your mouth
is of
getting it right!

Metamorphosis of Memory

Amazed, we save moments
frozen in memory.
But a mist dissolves the data
and speeds confusion.
Our days become divided
by small and large almost imperceptible seams.
These strange segments in time
demarcate what we were and what we become
while being held together
with a name and skin.
A memory, seemingly solid, suddenly becomes turbulent.
A new perception is added.
A white cloud of what is not
is pulled down over our gaze.
Our deeds and strife become
recreated truth.
That is how we embrace life
with all our being.

Who Are We?

A mountain of joy appears
and then diminishes
but it does not completely go.
The light comes from a holy place
outside of time and space.
We are conscious of it.
It lifts us.
It is the white fire in us.
It makes us want to cure the world.
In every generation,
an opposing force,
a fierce desire to kill, builds.
Merciless predators with
unrestrained brutality
gouge life with hate
and create war that
decimates dynamic beings.
The sublime shine endures.
After tears and years
we remember the glow
and envision a mountain of peace.
The Sphere of All must want us.