Confession

There was nothing left 

for me to do except take him to the edge 

of land

and see if he notices

what is missing

would he read the horizon lines

and turn the page?

Together we watched the boats

come and go

at the mouth

of the harbor

saying nothing 

of directions

like wind and gaze.

The further we went on 

drifting by degrees away,

where the edge becomes and end 

before us

anyway, a moment of stillness

Arose 

to this occasion

of reading-

The End.

Painting by Winslow Homer (1836-1910), 'Chindren on the beach' c. 1873 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Lucid lyrics

This one body

of water

This one me,

one drop in a sea-

where matter makes

greater than one

me and

to see a body-

Like mine

drenched in spirit

like the One 

This is some thing

only I can feel

this one reality

of a Being

that changes

less or more

and more or less

by blood and water

when every thing is 

Exposed

Nothing is just 

itself.

Image by Dietmar Rabich / in Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons / “Wassertropfen -- 2021 -- 8024” / CC BY-SA 4.0.

A-scent

A vile

Odor repels

something sinister

kept safe by scent

Just so

A vial

of perfume

Lingers long after

the liquid disappears

as pen on paper

fade

In residue resides

A verse

Contains a moment or more

than matter, intangible yet

Solidified somewhere

such as Here

Averse

to keeping a poem

Imprisoned eternally

Ascent is always

Released. 

Painting by Francis Philip Barraud (1824-1901), 'Prisoners of War' in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.