For Those Who Fish in the Deep


For those who fish in the deep drift

Waves crest over the frozen headlands

Folding in on themselves

Breaking into foam traces

Of a place we called home

Invisible and forgotten deluge

Votive ships into the Leviathan

Odyssey’s lost names of deities

And songs of beauty

Are shadow rivulets thinning

Disappearing into the all


I turn to see sun needles on my frozen footprints

Moving backwards with eyes longing forward

Like stars they sway in a black womb blanket

Motioning in the tide dead birds and seals cry

From the crack and smoke of a hunters dream

Deer still running in the otherworld from parole

Grating sand against sheep bones and oyster shells


I stopped looking in the sea caves and tangled lost nets for my people

Among shallow surfaces I found smoke in their blood and stolen pearl

Animated dead of this world still rising in ice towers

While our emergence from this creation myth recedes

Collecting smoky tones of pumice in the gnarled wind


The ancient umber womb of memory is remembering few us

Moving forward in retreat the inaudible hum of our story

Gathers spirits who comb the earth for what has kept us apart


Who are they

So different and so like us

Mystery of our empathic relationship to them

Weaving us together in the visionary bright world

This our final authentic struggle to consecrate our lives

Salvage and bless the earth


Between here and their world is our estranged stranger to stranger

Neighbor paces everyday to fill the empty space inside and out

Wears the garb of a fallen people pretending victory

Strangers rending the earth’s mantle through their shadow

Turn in your unconscious iron words for the plant kingdom

Wrap their rust in the leaf hollow of the soul

Crowds of souls who have abandoned their lives

For the platitude of rote paradigms

Delusional hearts in the mirror without center


To see inside ourselves is to really see each other for the first time

Rekindling our ancient shapes from the tear salted sea

I hear the deer sound in fallen snow

Plumes in the black absence of swan

Crows on black wire rant of trees gone missing

Skeleton moons in the thousand branches

Breaking light through deaths door


When there is no one around

There is my extinct creature I talk to

With rainy wind for a voice

It says there are enough birds for every seed

It speaks in parables of emptiness and everything


It says there are few who see

The otherworld through the polarities

And suddenly there’s no distance

The moons memory of our skin in her membrane

The nature of nature is birthed

from the figureheads of prows

Showering celestial cosmology

Flowing through our blood platelets

Black holes and supernova beckon

Flickering through the light

Of heart thought


Sometimes the original language can’t be translated

But we all should know it and once did

Slowly softly I’m letting it all in

I’m trying to tell you about it now

Through layered scatterings of diffused light

Cloud shadow on cloud adding chaos to direction


I know the way I talk to you makes me merge with your hunger

Quickens your senses while you wait for your bread

With the gold ring hidden inside

Bring your healing words to the humus

To the animal shadows and shallow roots

We must cultivate the earth inside us

As bears turn to clay in the cloudless rain

Hedge animals wait to cross open space unseen


I am the watcher through the vintage window

With green eyes whiskers mood of winter fire

I witness the becoming in the churning sky

Feral wind through my eyes

I know we have to steep in this unknowing time to know

And push into the holy weight of our lives

With a sea of conjuring words

And ritual healing knife


To stitch and repeat the greater fabric making

Is to change us into fitter forms

Shell of shining abyss

Burning stone

Immortal rain

Deer Goddess bursting green from the inside out

Edges of me made of pine and wild grasses

Red deer of the flaming earth

With all horned branches

Let me crouch inside you

With my animal body

With my sleepless lunar eyes

And delicate words

To the other within you


This is how it was and is

Before the first story of time

To live close with paradox

Lighting the cold

Through the long glacial era

With holy clown suture and trickster antidote

For the growing things of the soul


Feeling the silent breeze of your awareness

Across the gulf of winter emptiness

I draw near with strangers and night birds

Hands of poetry painted on cave walls

Waving you on

Animal sounds

Drawing your thoughts inward


Love is known by the pollinators

Those who have signed the ancient contract

To the deep and elevated places

They know that everything is undone

For the making purpose

If you don’t sow inside this garden

The seeds inside you will rot


Sometimes we have to turn our life inside out

Find another way around

To the whole in the middle of things

And find things that make us a child

Of many worlds

They Join different parts of us

Flint firing our spirit alive

Soaring birds in the clear sky

Know and feel how this can feel


This conversation is bigger than you and I

It is the celestial memory of spells

Smelted in power circles of the ancestors

The underbelly of times mist veiling the easy route

Birthed from the lost and found maker

Says we never left so stay close

The altar of my being lies every where

In your small fingers reaching

For a new branch of life

Scrying the movement of the spheres

Beneath the shimmering lake of your eyes


Watch the butterfly change the color of the way I think

Rest you in here with your love

Listen to the old songs buried beneath the earth

Each word a rune scattered map

To return home through your true nature

These songs wait for your soul to sing

To the solitary pine and shadowed flower

For the elders piercing dream instruction

Tilt your ears to the lantern of wandering stars


Terra Firma Stella Mare

Raise your spirit fathers

To the sun dancers

Shadow eaters

Death healers

Complete your turn in the underworld

With your ancient soul names

Cloud nomad

Spirit horse rider

Bird whisperer

Wind grappler

The burning dead parts of you

Are the temporal worlds leavings

Emptying out seeking new form


Death is a flowering time

When I am dead my words will remain

Attached to tender branches

When you dip underneath and feel them

Their poetry will live inside your skin

If you know what this means

You are moving the dream along

You are already closer to home


Traveling  in the circadian rhythm of internal planets

In the crossroads of sword and ghost flower and poem

I walk through this fifth season towards you

Up ahead I see an illuminated stone

Another place in the shape of a hill

There’s a bright cave without a name

Sky shale tree roots in the clouds

Holy places abandoned and brought back alive

Through the bleeding dawn

This high and deep moment

In wordless language

We use to know



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