Coronation

I waited for you
for a long time
out on that bright wave’s
ice-sharp curl
against the wind
until clouds bloomed orange
in the west
and the shoreline
disappeared.

This net of dewdrops
cast for you
requires no matching evening gown,
no shape-shifting pumpkin opulence
drawn by white steeds wrung
from the stem-cells
of house mice.

With these crown jewels,
these bubbles of light,
hands full
and wet with love
I baptize thee
in Being’s
holy presence,
wait no more for you,
nor you for me.

We stand for a long time
out where the waves disappear
in the middle of the sea
under the stars at midnight
until the carriage comes.

Inter-Species Dialogue

The dogs are tired of me
pretending to be
human.

They want to feel that same
happy star-shine they
got sprayed with
while I sat out
here last night
all let-go languid
in the light
that bathed them in
warm breaths
through the grasses
waving still
radiant still
beyond colors
transparent and laughing
like elves taking
secret showers
under the waterfall
at midnight
when no one will see
just how beautiful
their wings are
under the moon.

Our merely human minds
would melt.

We would follow them anywhere
if we glimpsed it
for an instant.

We would leave everything
else behind;
everything.

The dogs have decided
they’re coming with me;
so we go for a long
slow walk in the dark
to where the river starts.

I tell them
I am tired of them
pretending to be
dogs.

Waking Up

This morning
staggers out of bed,
finds a seat
under a dead tree
on the back porch,
waits for God
to talk to him again.

So exquisitely hypnotic—
this rising sun,
that rooster crowing,
this enmeshment with a
brighter more convincing dream
until it seems
quite real
for every purpose
under heaven.

When
senses eyes hearts ears
skin mind mouth nose
witness open wide enough
we see
a truer purpose
shining here
so bright we watch
the ground disappear.

Sparrows arc through the air
below me sunlight shining
through wings
from the closest western star.

I wonder what they
really are.

They look more like angels
than any birds I’ve
ever seen.

I wonder what this
really means.

Of all the bubbling dreams,
there’s not a single one but seems
to be,
and all the while you’re here
with me—
every one of you,
awake
or yet to rise.