So I close my eyes
Breathe in deep
Until all that is fills me up
But for the gulls
Soaring with graceful ardour
Placid amidst the tumult
The azure sky
Suspended upon its downy bed
Of purest white
Extremes of a year’s journeys
Found in a single switchback descent
Just ahead of a desert sunset
Somehow, I find
All of it
Beautiful
Inside my little cockpit of calm and warmth
I sing “Wassiye! Wassiye!”
With Habib Koite
A song of mirth and joy and love
Just as is the song within me
As I navigate existence
Across the expanse of being
And all its many storms
Yet between us
Always
Undeniable light
Exquisitely tragic love
“Not one,” said he
With a tone of
Finality
“Well, what then of Blorange?
Which the Welsh named a peak
Then too there’s sporange
A spore sack, so say scientist geeks”
“Ah, so indeed there are rhymes!”
Said he, though shaking his head
“But, what poet would use them?
Such odd freakish terms
I’d be seen as deranged!”
I find a beauty here
More remarkable
Than fading orbs
Or heated tones
Here in my solitude
Borne of a love
For icy blues
The Earth’s gentle sigh
As it closes its eyes
For the brief oblivion of slumber
Pix to Words 