Sowbug On A Bowl

Who's to know what I have said? This bit of clockwork in my head
Has no after, no before and knows no more than
Clockwork knows the world.
What I have said: thoughts are compounded ages,
Noises near a cluster of gauges where
Escapement ticks, flywheels whiz, where worry and a bit of business is.
We aren't only curled around a wheel. We are a bigger deal.

April, Point Reyes

Where sun draws all
But silver off it
And wind sends waves
Swimming marbled
Over themselves,
The sea seems an
Impossible idea.

I too am an unlikely thing,
Where a lone crow
Kites over dunes
Cawing our lone note
Into the pull of
Moon and stars.

In the roar, where
All their voices are,
I listen,
Where spray and
Turquoise coils glisten,
One impossible idea
Greets another.

Lens

Clouds over imagination
Open inward
Evolving voices, wings.
Each hour rises.
Flowers sing.

Planting In Hilbert Space

Something wakes as from a dream,
Shakes itself and begins.
It is you, me, everyone who
Has been and will be.
It can see
Time, swim gravity,
Stretch its electric body
Over rises, bends,
To wonders where
Galaxies spin and what
Is born where all
Of it ends.
Every spark contains our
Hopes, sorrows.
As from a dream, I ask:
Tomorrows, please, can
You promise tomorrows?

Enchanted Object

The genie
Who grants
Wishes gardens the future
On beds of things to be
Along paths
That aren't yet:
Selves self fails to see.

Garden isn't envisioned only:

One becomes a gardener,

Nor do wishes come simply true.
The silver and smoke
Is decision.
The genie ahead is you.

Submarine Forest

From Honor and
Glory over Time
To the cargo hold
At the end
Of the orlop deck
Are lives unstuck
From lesser current
And released
Into the sea.

She Asks Me Such

She asks me such
Odd questions,
Just to see if
I am listening.
To be sure, there
Are curious features
In all inquiry
Assembled and traded
Where wisdom begins --
Which do not include
Answers-- that cannot
Be dismissed.
She asks me such
Odd questions
That I married her.