Textures, gestures
into the time lapse
haze of morning,
the spontaneous eruptions
of clouds forming within
what appears static and glass
reflecting the easiest passage
around obstruction.
A break in the rocks ,instruction,
swift action
to balance the rigidity
of thoughts
disguised as wisdom.
Sinking somewhere
unconscious
beneath the surface,
the river stones
smooth as tear drops,
far flung and sinking
deep within an archipelago of
birds singing.
Flecks of light like candles,
shadows and their cave mouths commingling,
each motion creates words
reinforced by moonlight
even after the flames of meaning die.
Textures, gestures,
the eyes in a painting.
Faces in the falls,
rock walls,
the profiles of angels in miniature,
ascending
from cracks and fissures
like the first idle thoughts
that spread
from Le’ahi to Koko head,
lighting
the first spark defiant rim
that holds all the dark within
a cloud fabric’s
somber poem.
Underscoring the bedding,
thresholds in the wedding,
dawn and dark,
a consummation in time.
It comes to penetrate the mind’s
El Greco sky.
Bridging storm clouds
with white shrouds of calm
in the perfectly
swirling turbulence that
contrast unites
in the overtures of this day
in what endures of this night
along the edges of impermanence.
you become aware of it
only as it changes again.
yakskinpocketnotes 