all day long i shake

i shake 

with broken bellows

for lungs.

i call to my God,

lips dry.

how long must i wait.

how long.

how long must i wait. 

rough stones

waiting for water

as i

kneel, with a tired back.

Chesed.

i long for your love.

i know

i know it will come

the birds leave the branches 

when shade is          broken.

the sun catches through,

wings flutter

shadows fill

-

my words will break down 

over time.         sea sand.

promises I cant. 

just cant.

nothing more. 

-

I know this is slow

it may be now

or later. for     ever

its just

an ending.

-

Breaks in the surf cant

last .       how I feel

disintegrates.

fragments

to                 fare well.

The moon is ricocheted

clay-red this late,

as I drive wearily

from the long day.

Her true colour is so

covered by sun

keeping its rust from all.

She hides till now

her true beauty is shown

a rusted lily

like everyone else here

I think she must

have great faith in me 

to keep secret

her rust, her graceful breaks

Today a man dies

I will never know him

Today men have died.

I never knew them.

Today is not like other days

-

Being broken at heart,

I see death. I see it

Like a child at baseball game.

It still gets me going, though.

But when just some gets in. 

it burns like oil on water.

-

Today though, it is here.

Death is war, death is strife

death I see from the faces,

of veterans smiling,

of friends in tears.

There is little I can do.

-

this day is a day for remembrance.

healing broken toes as we walk,

hallowed and loving.

hopeful, that our goal

pure life

is near.

For Daniel and Lawrence.I miss you For veterans and the deceased. I thank you for your life.

Pine trees make quiet whispers when pressed with great winds.

- 

I crack like an old sailor

trying to find his way

in a sea of shale and ice

to light. 

On my knuckles is hate

or love

I can’t remember anymore.

all that matters,

is landfall.

-

I talk to the ship’s mast, 

about its old life.

about where has been,

how it keeps up 

with the gale.

It tells me it’s past

a redwood in a grove.

-

I whine to it, it hears.

The wind of my lungs 

it takes.

-

In the same way, 

I talk to you.

A broken sailor 

talking to a pine

A tree with trials.

who knows the wind

who suffers it.

-

Quietly, it hears

this seafarer’s sighs.

A man who thanks it

for the gales and seas

he has put it through. 

The heavy load of Mercury passes before the sun

-

I feel myself falling

into roman roads.

the wheel ruts 

leading the way.

-

Appian Ways far from

cities, in fields of green

and of grey death.

I see all.

-

This road, this progress

is heavy with dust lingering

gently distant, in the air. 

particles of paradise, just visible.

-

Mercury passes the sun,

heated.

I carry a similar burden

knowledge of pace around.

-

nobility obliged 

-

“My god, if you ask

         Run.

i run.

may this road be joy 

lasting

this i ask.”

the tree comes back after ice, verdant as it’s work.

-

Breath, as fine as gold foil

shatters constellations.

Breath brings life to the ash.

bringing light again.

-

I am the ash, growing.

aflame in green.

these leaves shake in the breeze.

enough to announce life.

-

I grow with wind.

burrowing into firmness.

grasping bedrock.

I remember the ice.

-

Cold of night, it leaves

the sun rises, the reflection 

reversed.

The sun rays clear.

-

the recognized arrives

-

“My God! It is day.

I live again.

the rays are clear.

And I thank you”

a cry in the dark returns a candle’s fire.

-

I cry , to what seems

a deathly space

between me and the Creator.

but, space is broken.

- 

I cannot go any longer.

the path I forged,

is that.

a path only I forged.

-

The call comes down.

“the light be your guide”

It speaks not with words

but with meanings.

-

the cry returns a call

“the light be your guide”

a candle of thought

arrives for the dark.

-

thankfulness laughs

-

“My god, you have called.

I asked, and you returned.

I cry no longer, pain ends 

I see now, growing.”

The slurs of books make them stagnant, obscured.

-

the cries of the doves,

they wrestle with life’s work.

in them, is hopelessness

I have lost the vision

the hope of the songs.

-

these books are shreds

shreds of what they should

cut apart when written.

They slur their words,

hidden.

-

The darkness of this night

where I am find myself.

the veil is lifted.

I see only distant stars.

-

the path has been.

cut apart like the books,

I, the traveler, obscured

in the dark of truth.

-

My path I wrote, 

is now shreds.

but a small stream

descends from the crescent moon.

-

The moon calls again:

“reflect in the light, 

reflect in yourself

the light reflects

a path itself.” 

-

incantation springs:

“I call to you, My God!

let me see your reflection,

I am lost in the darkness.

the slurs of books

have fogged.

Clear them from me!”

as the violin moves up, the stars roll about.

-

my head feels dizzy as the evening

wraps me in flags and banners

wisps of claims, of honor

they blind my eyes

-

A call to prayer comes 

cuts the banners, this halo

as a violin bowed slowly.

“Remember the night as the truth it is”

-

The light off the leaves

catches in my wrists

commands me to bow

reverence. 

- 

“I call to you , My God.

make this still night last

may I hear your voice

in the light of stars.

This fantasy no longer,

bring me to clarity.”

-

The still of night,

the shawls of truth

tell me I’m close.

close to lightness.