Rosa Vespidae

Hornet, at alert
Repose, shares
Silence on a
Rose --an echo
Of old stars.
If an echo
Hears an echo,
It is ours.

Interrogative

This, it does not
Qualify as prayer
But I look up past
Privet, rose, salsify,
Sailing billow under blue
And try to cast thought
Above the sky -beyond
Comprehension, beyond
Time- and I am
All attention.

The Goldbeater's Skin

Here in the antic cartoon
Of our souls, orchestral
Reels roll out ecstasies,
Repairs, encounters, cares,
Mirth, thought, love,
It is, it is us
Experiencing earth.
What came ahead,
Above and after
Forgets immensity --is
Lost or found in laughter.

Foresight

To teach, that day,
A thing I could learn no
Other way, foam overtook 
The gunwale of my shoe,
Spun and dragged it undersea .
My foot wasn't in it.
Lucky for me.

77000-Year-Old Bedding Found

[Prof. Christopher Miller sampling sediments. (Credit: Prof. Lyn Wadley, Science Daily)]

This is where they
Laid their heads.
They fell asleep.

We found their beds.
Between lines three
And four is a space,
Punctuation indicating
A pause of
Seventy-seven thousand
Years --amnestic mornings,

Nestled in settled stone
Waking alone, eager,
In love or sad, in
Their beds where they
Dreamed, worried,
Trysted, cried, laughed,
Whispered, petrified.

Here on prehistoric
Beds, this is where
They laid their heads.

Thanking Susan

I suspect kites symbolize
Something in us,
The brains of us,
That lets the sky
Communicate through tugs
On a thin line.
I flew kites as a kid and
As a kid again when I had kids.
I have grandkids now
And it's almost spring.
Thanks, Susan, for
Reminding me to get a new kite.

Cloud Computing

Closing over what is
And is yet to be,  clouds
Climb out of the sea
On waves of what has been.
Then fog divided by
Fog again divided 
Issues a quotient
Dividing one as well.
Future escapes its shell,
Crosses sand and follows
Shifting mist along the land.