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embrace


Eager hearts probe
Melding together
Basking in the warmth of affection
Resonating with shared emotions
Aching for the next touch
Clutching tightly; not letting go
Enclapsed in lingering longing

cathartic / eclipse 2024

∴ in umbral track, i tarry
where moon and sun meld in perfect union |
witness swift transfiguration of this realm |

my eyes ascend to haloed sun
enveloped in tranquil sorcery
parched, i absorb ethereal luminescence
into the depths of my being

in cathartic light
surrendered
shedding layers of shadowed hesitation
a seeker’s path in wisdom’s rays ∴1

  1. Reflecting on the North American eclipse on April 8, 2024, it was at 1:59 PM CST, and it lasted a solid 3 minutes and 44 seconds right where I was. I feel grateful to have been there for it and hope you were able to experience it too. This puts me just shy of 10 solar eclipses in totality witnessed, maybe around 25 solar eclipses or so in total. Lunar eclipses? Ha, couldn’t say. I’d take a wild guess at around 50, but who knows? Maybe I’ll dig into it one rainy day. Anyway, not bad for someone who’s not an eclipse chaser but doesn’t hesitate when there is an opportunity. Nope, never will. ↩︎

berserk


Bittersweet cravings
Escalating desires
Restless urges
Sensory overload
Euphoria sought
Rampant emotions
Kaleidoscope of feelings

speck

∴ worms seeking rich soil
my speck of body leaves life
cycle continues ∴1

  1. Haiku Saturday theme courtesy of Susan M Andrews, 6 April 2024 ↩︎

wheeze

∴ storming thru crags
offering climbs
of jagged complexity
each flash cheered
by frogs’ chorus, springy birds

no pause midst chalky puffs
hands reach into the realm of sends
persistence unyielding, willed
by love for vertical meditation

ascents ignite
across, through
the lattice
of my body electric

conquering routes with pure psyche
now toasted, nearly wheezing
on the last crux of this virgin line

where the final burn leads
to a fumble, a whip, a fail
Laid Out, faded, wickedly pumped
grasping barely at reality
grounded beneath the final top-out
peeled off, averting decking

not a conquest this day
a puzzle yet eludes
projecting, brewing deep in my mind

pondering still and
chilling, contemplating
engaged in Question and Answer
with my feathered guide
pursue?, pursue!, pursue?, pursue! ∴1

  1. I took some poetic liberties with the ‘Peter, Peter, Peter’ call of the tufted titmouse. It emanated from somewhere in the trees, and though I never actually caught sight of it, I could distinctly hear its call. ↩︎

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