11-4-10 Grizz

Pelican Valley Grizz - Image Used with Permission - Copyright Kim Kaiser 2010

How many frost-crisp mornings
have I watched them in
my beloved Northern Valley?
Not nearly enough, I can tell you.
Ruefully I count them on
fingers and not hands.
My first sparking thought
springs, involuntary
…they are electric!
Grizzled follicles
emit a rolling,  bristling
energy that
can’t be described any other way.
I’ve had, always,
a kindred tie -
a blood mate with this knot
of muscle and fat.
From a deep-cell dream
of putting my last-day foot
into his print full of silvered
evening lit water -
to a waking vision
of a bear husband,
as I lay alone, undressed
under the wilderness sun
longing for you,
that time long ago when we were new -
to the dream of being a bruin myself,
waking mid-winter, groggy,
disoriented and wondering why
all that protruded from the deep snow
was the very top tip of
the same Douglas firs
that towered over Summer.
One precious, valley sun-dogged morning
I watched dream-readied
fat and muscle roll;
a huge boar lifted heavy padded feet
to step over fallen trees as if they were twigs.
Electric! – I thought.
And now – I am quietly satisfied with this idea -
such power and might
lays curled in darkness,
breathing heavy steam,
beneath the ground snow.
Does he now dream of me
- silver skinned, in cold stream draughts of
cut-throat plenty?

10.10 Developing and Developments

Ben

Sadie

Kestrel on our New Garden Bench

 

10.20.10 Luna Within

 

Tycho and Copernicus Lunar Ray Craters - Image used with permission - Credit & Copyright Steve Mandel

Early this morning,
deep inside,
I discovered an image of
Luna, our lovely moon.
I found it completely by surprise
from within a steel pod;
a spaceship
surrounded by the loud, shuttering sound
of magnetic pulses;
a needle buried in my vein.
Compression, contrast,
a hot cold flash
of iodine
flowing through
tributaries,
quicksilver, radiant
in the darkened interiors
of my chest.
Silver traces that brightened monitors
in another room – another planet.
But back to that likeness of Luna…
there she was
perfectly preserved
on a computer screen.
Brilliant with soft light,
surrounded by night,
rounded, lined with
arroyos, canyons,
the ray systems of Tycho,
Copernicus, Kepler, Proclus
and something that looked like
Sea of Tranquility…
though tranquil it was not.
An electronic exploration
of what dwells deep inside,
nestled right next to
a small kernel of unspoken dread
and unquenchable hope,
each, buried side by side
within my breast.

Luna

 

The Lure of the Deep Forest

Her dark fingers reach through
deep dreams
and throw spiderling
threads around our hearts -
citybound far too long.
The silk draws us
close to Her
green forested body.
We desire
the air that smells
primal,
like black earth -
like rushing snowmelt -
and banks chilled silver
in evening’s
last light.

I dream again of
liquid mercury
pooled in a track
left
by a great bear -
he watched me from
the rise, above, in that
same kind of light.
In my dream
I fit my small boot
easily within the
span of that wild print
and shiver, feral.

Rocks and tree trunks
inhale
fresh new Spring.
Curtains of newly hatched
lacewings choke the air
and tease trout
from their deep slumber
in
shadowed pools.

We long for her,
our Goddess,
we crave the cool
dark beneath the trees,
the electric air
of  mountain afternoons,
the duff softened
footfall on
Spring watered grass.

I close my eyes and
remember landing
at the Southeast arm
like an explorer
in the New World.
Everything was dripping
green with rain
and the exhalation
of grass and trees.
Anything was possible
for She had given
you to me -
and you were
all around.

And Now There’s Ben!

Adopted from LifeLine Puppy Rescue on March 13th.
Let all of the puppy joy begin!!

Is Forever Enough? (© Dixie Chicks)

They didn’t have you where I come from.
Never knew the best was yet to come.
Life began when I saw your face
And I hear your laugh like a serenade.

How long do you want to be loved?
Is forever enough, is forever enough?
How long do you want to be loved?
Is forever enough…
Cause I’m never, never giving you up

I slip in bed when you’re asleep
To hold you close and feel your breath on me.
Tomorrow there’ll be so much to do
So tonight I’ll drift in a dream with you.

How long do you want to be loved?
Is forever enough, is forever enough?
How long do you want to be loved?
Is forever enough…
Cause I’m never, never giving you up.

As you wander through this troubled world
In search of all things beautiful
You can close your eyes when you’re miles away
And hear my voice like a serenade.

How long do you want to be loved?
Is forever enough, is forever enough?
How long do you want to be loved?
Is forever enough…
Cause I’m never, never giving you up

2010. jan. 20

How long have I loved You?
I wonder beneath an ashen winter sky.
Breath wreathes like smoke,
tendrils rise to touch your face.
You exhale sweet clean cold.
Unknowing.

How long has my skin
sought the stroke
of your river-hands?

More then the count
of days
we’ve spun,
softly glowing stars,
in this lovely orbit.
Lifetimes before,
in torrid dreams of
wakeful yearning;
in renting cries
rising from deep
inside where waited
one small vivid
spark of desire,
banked in cold years of wanting you.
I’d held you in my cells -
Tendon and bone marking the days till you.
If I’d known then
I need only ask,
my fingers would have traveled
the planes of your brow,
in gentle wonder,
long before we started
this shimmering journey
through the circles of day.
I would have touched your lower
lip long before we turned in
surprise
that one impassioned
summer day.

Mythic Flood

These waters arrive
in mythic proportion
to test and teach us,
to discover our
depth.
Beneath those
rushing floods
are scribed the
letters of who
we are
at the heart
of our matters.
Each night we
submerge,
limbs and lips
locked,
we rise again as
one.
Strengthened,
joined,
by the whispered
words we find
flowing beneath
our
embrace.
Hold me steady, there
in your arms,
a shining fish
feeding from the silvered
river.
And I will hold you,
soft skin and flashing teeth
until the
rose light of morning
creeps into
the coming day.

Autumn Draws Near – Magnetic Poetry by Way of Our Tag Cloud

Apart Autumn!
Away Birds!
Brambles spread from the
Darkness Dreams
Of Earth.
Elk Forests grow thick with
the stroke of
Goddesses hands
upon their dark Gods,
With Grasslands, and Grizzly Bears.
The Incantations of Insects
whisper into being
the Landscape’s Light,
a Feral Literacy.
There we meet,
Longing for Love’s Magic,
to twine as one
In the wreathing Medicine Wheel,
Where Mosses become Music.
From those Musings of Mystery,
Owls fly toward Dark Passion.
Plants spiral to the
wisp-smoke
Of Poetry spoken by Ravens.
The Seasons Seed Sleep and
Spirituality,
Tactile as flowing Water.
Wildness dreams through the Winter.
And Wolves move with Wonder
through
a maze of our secret
Wordsmithing.

Wild Whispers

tilting Earth
moves,
inexorable,
grinding slowly
in her rhythmic journey
around the Sun.
shadows stretch
slanted, low and long,
calligraphy,
inscribed of Autumn’s hand.
a feather’s shaft
pierces the ground
and there stands,
a sundial,
marking hours of
passion in
sliding daylight.
in the new darkness
of morning
we sleep.
I am drawn,
a rare earth magnet,
to fully stretch
against the length
of your body,
skin along skin,
foot atop yours.
I wish I could wrap
our shoulders,
a soft chrysalis,
late into the day.
we dream that we sleep
in darkened caverns
where bears rest.
beneath our
pulsing lids move
trails, rivers, rills,
unbroken seas of trees.
the wild places
whisper against our
sleeping ears.
they call us forth
saying
warm your spine
flat
upon the rock chest of
earth before
she enters
the cold slumber.