Prevailing

The prevailing winds prevail
the clouds pale gray in the moonlight
cast shadows on the phosphorescent sea
bright then dark then bright again
like the sorrows between life’s joys
the prevailing winds prevail

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This Union

The fabric was torn in 2013, but you can’t unplay a symphony. The echoes have a mind of their own.

At one time, perhaps,
this union
was the casually tentative alliance
of two vaguely kindred spirits,
Lewis & Clark of the soul
in search of Emotional Passages.
Perhaps two dancers engaged in defining
the parameters of a certain joy, bodies
working in pleasantly passionate harmony
with the understanding that the contract
would last as long as the music.

Surprise.
We began to generate our own music,
and threads of experience became this
tightly woven tapestry of a rich history which
continues to blossom growingly each day, our
simple melody evolving into the symphony of
this Union.

This Union

The fabric was torn in 2013, but you can’t unplay a symphony. The echoes have a mind of their own.

At one time, perhaps,
this union
was the casually tentative alliance
of two vaguely kindred spirits,
Lewis & Clark of the soul
in search of Emotional Passages.
Perhaps two dancers engaged in defining
the parameters of a certain joy, bodies
working in pleasantly passionate harmony
with the understanding that the contract
would last as long as the music.

Surprise.
We began to generate our own music,
and threads of experience became this
tightly woven tapestry of a rich history which
continues to blossom growingly each day, our
simple melody evolving into the symphony of
this Union.

Fluent

Once fluent in the immediate
immaculate language of bodies
but long since reduced
to the imperfection of words
to explain unexplainable
trying to figure out what
is brick and what is mortar
one must laugh, finally,
for the choir shouts “Amen”
all day while those who’ve
never been to that altar
cannot understand anyway

Love of My Life

First daylight bleeds into the chill
stillness of our room, enfolding
the serene magnificence of your form
in repose, exposing the fragile beauty
of your features. You, like a National Park,
too lovely to disturb. Like a marauding
strip miner I risk all to kiss your brow,
to breathe the perfume of your hair.

Mayday

A third of a year gone by again
weeks and months stacked like
trashbags in a landfill
keeping track of landmarks and milestones
requires more and more skill
sadness and regret all around our feet
so we strive to find the higher ground
where joy and hope still meet
but it’s a complicated path
full of wrong turns and dead ends
don’t be afraid to turn around
and if you must, pretend
that you have reached a place
with that perfect view
and with a little luck
the view may just find you

Cold Sheets

The wedding day was sunny
and clear with a crisp breeze,
but I don’t think the temperature
ever reached thirty degrees.
Honeymoon in a lake house
that had been closed for the winter,
we had to light the furnace
before we even entered.

The windows were frosty inside
we didn’t really care,
enjoying views of lake and woods
was not why we were there.
The sheets were as cold as ice
but not for very long
we didn’t wait for furnace heat
to begin our wedding song.

We loved and laughed for two days
and kept things toasty warm
then went back to civilization
and what was now our home.
So cold sheets don’t really bother me
with this memory to warm my heart,
death’s farewell couldn’t break the spell
we’ve never been apart.