Life is here,
Then it's not,
One small portion of time,
It's all we've got.
You find things you like,
People too,
I found you.
No second chances,
No time to make up lost dances,
Or even a simple second,
To appreciate what you have.
I blinked,
Then October turned to spring,
Easter flowers came just in time this year,
I can only give them 86 more chances,
To reappear.

i lust insist
tense under ruttish restraint and expectation
                                                     ­             trussed

Banners of blossom
Hardy perennials
One big metaphor

There’s a family of bullfrogs nearby
Their cries rise and volley
Shimmering in mezzo-soprano melancholy
A torch song to the new moon,
Pleading her silver bloom
return to the black spring sky.

Nature roars with a gentler will—
Not like men, who plunder and ****.

Each moment, a leaf lets go;
Luck kneels low to spring's bright glow.
Dormant breeze sweeps through the land,
As buried riches seize the crown.

No stranger I to this raw lore:
From dust I rose—I thirst no more.
At nature’s feast, I stake my reign—
Its quiet gold: my rightful mane.

Lord of life,
of green and colour,
of breeze and light.
Lord of bluebell and butterfly,
of birdsong and birds' flight.

Lord of space to think,
of time to rest.
Lord of movement,
of stillness.

I sit here and I confess
complete adoration,
my sunshine celebration
of this, your full spectrum,
this rainbow-wide gifted creation.

I sit and give thanks
for this sustained life,
of greens and blues in yellow light,
of fresh composed songscape,
of this colour full to the brim life,
this God given land and sky-scape.

I thank you, Lord, for this gateway,
this fresh every morning,
gifted new day.

soak into death    be a sot to it   you enemy of love
sponge and earth and thaw
breakdown into smaller and smaller particulates
and become involved in the sop
rejoin life

hammer and the tongues of gods
the meat of our play
     breaks all membrane restriction
        an explosive pushing out of our ***