Where No Horizons Rise
My sheets are set to catch the winds of light among the whirl of stars through which I sail where no horizons rise against my sight. I’m borne along in …
Category: . Mystical
The Magic of Place
We watch the fog sweep silver brush across the greenboard mountains– left behind? The questions unerased. Have those mountains been misplaced? And is the sun now blotted out or does …
Sky Spirits
Although I am, I do not feel alone. I’ve climbed the trail to greet my welkin gods and leave them tokens on the altar stone: catalpa seeds inside a fresh, …
Waking the Dragon
At four a.m. the minions climb upon their sleeping beast: They clean away the soot and grime, each sleeve and axle greased. In steely bowels they nurse its fire, …
Ghosts of Spanish Cathedral Ruins
It is the charge of time to steal the grace of architects, For man to breathe in crumbling works the calculus of meaning. From tines of stone that ruin shuns, …