The shores of chartreuse are beckoning.
All surreal roads lead to heaven’s gate.
Laughing horses and flying mushrooms on brooms
filter through the cellophane
of my brain stem.

Words and measures are limited.
We’re looking for art that’s infinite.
We are bound by our media,
our processes, and our methods.
No one wants to plod through creation
but to lift up on wings of expression.

Crushed and crumpled red velvet.
A blue glass of wine.
Clean, and clear windows.
Daisies and sunshine.

Let love flow
from my lips to your ear.
Sadness is fleeting.
Peace alleviates fear.

We are all raindrops

I want to warm up and thaw my psyche
till I glow
at that center we all know is our own.
A place where it’s swirling bright
in the utter darkness,
and deeper than twilight
whenever the sun’s glare
obscures our sight.
Where it’s always the right time
for quiet time,
alone with the self, and shared existence with everybody.
A place where nothing is too distant to reach;
a warm beach in the dead of winter,

No storm tonight
just a bit of freezing rain
reminding me that all the universe
turns in cycles,
and now it’s time for the cold for a while.
We had a glorious summer,
and the fall is always fresh.
Three weeks to winter…
So much can happen in three weeks

Storm front pelting us
like little arrows of glass
are awakening my face
and enlivening my step

Squared shoulders into the wind
and head half-tucked in
like a turtle undecided

The canoe is packed away
festivities are beginning