Flying Home

FLYING HOME

Someone laid out

carpet samples

down there

Someone carved out

wiggly lines

down there

All those

shades of green

down there

And then the desert

Above the wing

and far away

Frosted horizon

Sierra Nevadas

(tiny lakes)

I thought I saw

a Cessna

down there

trying to keep up

me too.

Flying Along

Flying Along

Flying along

Big and Strong

me and Dad

above the clouds-

How the valleys

in the clouds

reflect the valleys

on the ground.

My father's hands

are thick and brown,

his eyes are creased

with many a frown.

His breath is thick

with sour beer 

and nicotine is always near.

No albatros nor eagle

has wings which reach as far

as Pappy's in a Cessna

(or Jon inside his car.)

Between the Son and Father

The Poet writes away

The words which grab at meaning

The words he needs to say.

With all eyes closed

and silence spoken

the memories

are soft unbroken.

Now sky, now ground

Now seaward bound

And in the night

Come take flight

and spread your wings

above all things.

fly eagle proud

above the cloud...

A lazy eight

would sure be great

a stall and dive

to feel alive

Like words in a song

Flying along

I'm always glad

To fly with Dad.

Mother Chant

Mother Chant

Honor to the Mother,

Giver of Life and Form,

Maker of the Sun and Moon,

The Wielder of the Storm.

Honor to the Great Womb

From which all Life is born,

When souls are cast as mortal

The Rose receives its Thorn.

Honor to the Ancient Crone

To whom all Life must turn,

Whose body takes all forms at last

When down the candles burn.

Honor to the Circle,

The Dance and Song of All.

Come take your place before Her,

Come Dance within Her Hall.

The Womb is soft and comforting,

The Hall is warm and moist.

There is no Life refuses,

For you never had a choice.