Waxing Moon

My mind is a jumbled mess. I tripped and fell, on a flat surface, after carousing jagged rocks along the Atlantic shoreline. Now I am without my camera lens. Fortunately, the camera is working. Me, not so much. There is an inner arousal that is not easily calmed.

all my breath
saved in each embrace
-eternity.

I wrote it, so I must have felt it. I desire such peace. And grabbing a few pillows, a quilt and a favored book should do the trick. Replay the waves as they swish through my presence. Recall the gull and heavy-handed wind, carry the landscape home.

Waxing or waning moon?
Should I not spend
two drops of sun oil
on a loyal friend?

img_1495In the brisk
warmth of summer’s kiss
I shouted
towards the hovering freeze.


Oh!! Wake
ocean waves!!
Alive!!
to the violent
and calm.
God crashes into me.
The veil rips
open and through
past and present storm.
The gulls whisper
“Be still!
Believe heart!”
And I let their cry echo the day.