This Thing That Is Becoming Us


There are broken things all around us

The earth shakes moving her arms around

All who did not love her


I had all I could take

In times roman numeral

Winding drone of clocks

Heavy ponderous handed

Black and white marks

Across the battery of my breath


You lied to me

Held me close and killed me slow

All the evening skies

That were once my own


I mask myself for the death inside

The old ghost of being

Each time I come across another truth

It pencils me in for a short time

Making life from the dead parts of me


A longing ghost I would bend the barb wire

Back to where it came from

Enough room to bend my way out

What keeps me in what keeps me out

All the things we have not mastered here


With our shaped voices neither here nor there

Driftwood bodies lost in the deep sea

Of memory and storm

Vermillion scrap heap of captains

Capsized in the blood


Some try to swim the umbilical

Back to the mother

Unravel the latitudes of mind

Blanched continents adrift

In tide pools of consciousness

Lapping waves pulse in the wrist


One word from her

Is a glacier of beauty

Passing through our membrane

A scent of summer croon

In a healing drone of bees


One word from her

Is a sonorous last cry

Lost language of our earth

A shadow across our breath


One word can furnish us a flower for  a swift life

Or a long oak belly down in the clay

Fertile wounds for the bones

Of all who did not weep

One word can change us into

A robin headed sapling in spring rain


Are we to become the words themselves

The prism of her singular thought

All things we ever forgot

The outside of the inner experience

The inside of the outer


There’s no going back

Until we finish

This thing that is becoming us


Pilots inside the deity

Riding the surge of plasmic thoughts

Moving the universe in complex laws


I see she wears crop circle tattoos

Beneath her robe of stars in every direction

Her voice fills the atmosphere


I am the mask you want to remove

And I am behind it

The shadow of your world

When you stop growing


The moments are in the making

In this foraging for the light

Beneath your feet and claws

Gathering starlight from the stone ribs of the earth


My medicine stories pass through the strata

In a river of indigenous tongues

With soul honed visions incubating an egg

In the ancestors gloam


They call us to be full orbs of the night

Climbing the Kiva ladder

In driving rain to blue sky manna


I’ve taken to holding the seeds

Of the evergreen forest in my thoughts

Hieroglyphs in my pen

For the uncharted sea of the divine

I slipped off this black jetty boulder

Swimming back through the amnesia

Reading the words in the diary of my soul


May we meet on the shores here

And know each other by all our eyes have seen

Blessed by the feathers of our speech

May we recognize this passage in time

To catch each other in the darkness

By our reaching light


In the middle of everything I hold your hand

Left behind in petroglyphs

Tattoos of the ancient soul of the land


Speak to us in ancient forest sounds

Spreading seed

Rain talking

A word in each drop

Spreading cloud light

Through the ground

The space of sound

The sound of space

Breaking surface silver fish

In the slow splintered sun

Shimmering dreams

In the home we left behind

A small scattering of prayer

Drumming on the mountain of stellar worlds


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s