Under Solstice

in phase
with natural rhythms.
Shadow to light
with greater cycles.
Time through space.
Do ages cohabitate?
Do stars expand,
express tragic brilliance?
Do simple little twists
change worlds and consciousness?
Very early in the day,
just beyond the penumbra
of night, as magic
clashes with reason:
That color so enriches
my palette.
Air gives way to water.
Arid ambience anticipates days
absorbed with passionate profusion,
emotional sailing on vast
turbulent (and/or) brooding seas.
The desert is so fragrant,
exotic, mystically inviting.
Dusk whirls of wilding sands,
stoic creatures,
surprises brusquely revealed.
The desert in forms, sculpts,
creates crannies of secret
delight throughout covert imagination.
A no-man’s land where cognition
gasps as inspiration
blows through, encompassing
I will not leave the desert.
I will merge with its becoming,
allow imminent floods
to rise into thirsty pores
rendering sand squishy, unsettling
into ocean floor.
Ride with me.
Open raft beneath firmament,
unguided, unplanned, unafraid.
Changing winds have always been my home.
Enclosed against starlight.
Sacrosanct eidola
keep close their
occult meaning.
A touch, a brush,
an entanglement.
Awake in the dream,
breathing cool greens,
intense shadings,
pregnant intimacies
bursting into
the magic of life.
Trail of effervescent Mercury’s abandon.
Charming trickster,
plays upon seasoned winds  — Quicksilver surf.
Exhale old air’s detritus.
Inhale and whoosh,
under sea-change brew.
Sentimental, far from gentle,
whirlwinds cumulate; ambitions,
expected conditions,
waver memory.
Caught up in flying breeze,
blown out, engulfed in ocean,
forgotten gills respond —
mer-eyes open.



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