Passing

the hours before dawn
weaving my way back home through
the thinnest of light

gently becoming
as one with
the winter sky

Arid

jagged windblown sand
making a meal of driftwood
in the desert sun

just beyond the dunes
a faint whisper of
false promises

Luna

a ring tailed hawk watching
the curve of the crescent moon
emerge from the mist

the full moon
silhouetted
against the night

Whispers

lying in the grass
in quiet conversation
with the fallen leaves

mottled sunlight
spruce needles
murmur underfoot

Comfort

come to me softly
slip off your shoes and we’ll dance
in the evening sand

mid morning sun
warm black sand after
the retreating tide

Faith

jewel in the lotus
tibetan prayer wheels turned by
cascades of water

a winter dawn
snow skates across
the temple threshold

Vermilion

the last vestige
of the sinking evening sun
sets the sky alight

painted hillsides
a winding road turns
though burning leaves

Passage

a flash of silver
bright water patters and breaks
the woodland silence

finally unfettered
carried aloft
on golden wings

Shoreline

as the tide comes in
the quiet surf erases
our mingled footprints

salt breezes
clammers digging
in the wet sand

Runnels

a hot summer morn
in the curl of a turned leaf
the gathering dew

a ringing anvil
collecting
beads of sweat