Whippoorwill No More


A part of her energy

as we sent

bade the stars enjoy the sunshine’s glint

Taught the cellular earth to relax and breathe

brought the cosmotic canvas to its knees

Glazed the germ of sand, which into oceans quench

She played a trance-filled whippoorwill safety wench

Trumpeted the sloth in its uphill climb

Formed the bridge into a mother-peace  lake, sublime

She swam without shame in moonlight’s glove

Floating over the membrane of cerebral love

Heart Work

It is a heart work


one comes out of closed-up heart work feeling like

a part of her self wasn’t excised;

she has to renew and regenerate

resulting in a destination –

the completion of divine restitution


But it is a heart-work

different from all others

She is

even in all her confusion

still a very real drop of rain amongst hundreds

that fell on the earth’s head

ran down its nose

wrinkled its forehead

and baptized its toes

How Can I Miss What I Do Not Know

I’ve thought many times

about how I miss certain people,

but then I realize

I’m locking those people into being exactly

what I remember them to be

and none of them are the people I remember;

none of them are stuck in that pleasing-me mode

or that not-living-up-to place;

I will never know the ever-changing them.

Again, I say

How can I miss what I do not know

or miss anything that isn’t here