The army marching over every field Disturbs the insects hiding in the grass. A whir of beating plastic wings will yield Them up into the waiting beaks that pass Along behind, in mobile feathered wait.

I never thought I'd love these woods. The tall, straight pines are unfamiliar, breaks In boughs so open that the sun Can break on through, the flowing gold which makes A broadleaf canopy spread out Here

You golden love, you organize yourself – The best in life, you organize yourself. The wealth of nations, lifting poor to warm, Cool comfort, you but organize yourself. The storyteller, poet, artist, musician,

Wake up! Be alive! Have some fucking passion! Why must we live a life where dead spirits are the fashion? Where are the spirits that make us want to dance? Why can’t we touch and kiss, make romance A fiery

The silent pines blocked out the morning light, The floor of ivy tangled up the cones – So I devised a thyrsus, made to fight For light and dancing, melodies and tones.

Hills banded blues and black and reds and pinks – No plants in sight under the searing sun Except this wood of solid stone that links Us to Triassic forests, solid ton Or more of wood in jasper crystals,

This poem is just about sex or rhyme. This poem is just about birds that sing. This poem is just about love or time. This poem is not about anything. This poem does not have repetition. This poem does

The mountain rises high into the sun – The light that shines, it makes all things as one.

I happened once upon a pool Far, deep within an open wood – I knelt to feel the water’s cool – My eyes caught shining in the light Transparent movement, ever slight. Looking closer, I strained my sight

Why do we waste and lose the time we have? what is the cost of all the time we’ve lost? We pass the time and fill the time, and fail To see it growing as a fractal frost. We fear the flow of time, sublime

Dendrobiums, dark pink blooms dangling down, And gray-green mottled spoon-shaped leaves, roots, ground Far from them; they grow on trees, rocks, forms found All dancing daintily. They, drooping, drown

You are a bright and shiny pearl in a purple oyster, As rare as the white gem and the white and rough dark purple shell. Ah, what lovely things can arise when we Are irritated by jagged things well Enough

I The blue retreats into the dark – The planet’s orbit makes the sun Appear to disappear beyond The edge of the earth until one Last sliver slips from its blue bond To the sky, the moon its one mark. II

I saw a poem once Running on soft feet, Climbing rocks away from me To its own rhythmic beat. And off it ran, Threw off its shoes, Released its tiny toes And left a streak of reds and blues, Traveling

Darkness, shadows fall about, Permeating all throughout. Within our souls, within our minds – Look within, see what it finds. Looking close, a point of bright Wondrous, glowing, shining light. Small and

Her kitten quivers in my arms. His blue Leash circles my hard hand so he won’t run – But he sits on my arm, calm as a son Reading his favorite book. While it is true I cannot know all that this kitten

I knew that I had God in me when I Saw God in everyone and everything. Before then, God could not appear in me And my soul could not grow a single wing. Before I saw the table full of guests I could not

ACT V (The Bard steps out from behind the closed curtain and stands in front of it, center stage) Bard: Behold as Adam rises through the human and Beyond. From where he was he has descended through The

Act IV (The Bard steps out from behind the closed curtain and stands in front of it, center stage) Bard: Oh Muses keep on singing so that I can see The fate of Adam, dead upon the stormy sea. Please show

Act III (The Bard steps out from behind the closed curtain and stands in front of it, center stage) Bard: A human, all too human past is left behind And now we must descend into a lower world, For we are