White Stone

Kingdom, phylum, class – there’s more:
Family, genus, species – names
Assigned on each and every shore
As creation’s breath exclaims.

Garden appellation sparked
This rise of naming beasts.
Ancient primal words for lark,
Elephant and wildebeest.

All these creatures great and small
Know nothing of their moniker.
What a man decides to call
Them, whether antelope or rotifer

Will ever be a mystery,
Even for the chosen few
Of us who don’t yet know or see
Our white stone names this side of blue

Skies and galaxies.

Revelation 2:17

Luci in the Sky

Virgin ink on dullish stock
Between two laminated heels –
Smothered voices in the shade
Of both my unmoved eyes and heart.

Pure river writing genius she
When spreading ‘likes’ and ‘as ifs’ or
pulling pictures from the sky
or sketching singing streams from earth.

But the long and wordy road
That should carry me on wings
Of angels to heaven’s holy shine
Leaves me gasping here for air.

There is a fallen disconnect
Between the creature and his God.
His words are clear and spirit breathed.
But when life’s death has died there’s joy.

I need more than clever phrases
When it comes to highest praises.
Shining doxology alone
Brings my aching heart near home.

On Luci Shaw’s Writing the River

Dragons in the Air

Cryptic cutthroats; wandering stars;
King of kill; queen of scars;
Savannah stalkers; burly bugs;
Short-lived snipers; merciless thugs.

They’re watching me as they dance and flirt,
They’re smelling my salted skin and shirt,
Eyes bulging in the scorching heat;
Wings flashing a frenzied beat.

They’re primed to eat a scrumptious lunch;
If they were giants, I’d be brunch.

July 26, 2022,
~ then a lot of changes the next day ~

Wabi Sabi

I wonder whose couch it was when it was new,
And where it lived and if kids jumped up and down
On it before it was completely trashed and tossed
Out in front with a “free” sign pinned on it.
The chair was maybe matching, but probably not.
Sheets and blankets drape a hidden frame
Of real oak pallets, or maybe light weight pine.
There is little of the lettered architect in sight.
Kanso defers to wabi sabi here,
And the Tesla has been traded for a Trek.

Who’s loitering when life is an adventure?