watching the sleeping ducks

i watched two ducks
one laid upon the wet ground
the other balanced

on one foot
the other foot tucked
under a white wing

each with their eyes closed
heads bobbing in peaceful sleep
as the cold rain poured down

the caretaker — 3 haiku

watering the plants–
the daily ritual of
life giving to life

_______

sweeping the floor–
clearing the new debris to
reveal the old shine

_______

taking out the trash–
bagging faded memories
to leave by the road

last sun, first stars

the boy sat on top of the dune
his legs folded together
the wind singing in his ears

sand shone in the air
prism particles refracting
the light of the double setting sun

once every four hundred years
the two suns fell together
below the blue horizon

in an oscillating wave of green
cutting the sky from the land
where the boy sat on his dune

he sat and watched while
the wind sang in whispers
of dancing sand and burning green light

and when the last light had faded
and the wind fell in hushed silence
the sky filled with stars the boy had never seen

water and dirt (3 haiku)

the long curved branches
of the willow tree reaching
for the riverbanks

______________

silent ferns growing
low in the black underbrush
green shoots from wet clay

______________

purple nightbirds perched
in the cracks of the pond rocks
reflecting the stars

better fruit

the hours we spend
in silence

gazing

eyes fixed upon
our chosen iconography

yielding the fruits
of our efforts

be they bitter or sweet

new morning

i felt
the cool kiss
of morning sun
lifting fog
from the wet ground

water sketch

waters edge
deep and dark

black ripples

but warm
to touch

three years in the cave

our eyes were full
of wonder

when we first came into
the world

but now we have grown
heavy with

what we have seen

our eyelids have shut
into a half-sleep

and the wonder we once
looked upon

is no longer a miracle

so we close our eyes
and we

look into the darkness
until the light

bursts forth from
the inward world of ourselves

we look into these depths
and we

learn process digest

looking into the wonder
we see

until we can look out
again

winding winds

between the shallow waters
and the deep hollows
of the mountains

the wind whistles
in yelps and howls
taking its time

up and down in
sessions of intensity
whispering through

the courtyards of stone
the winding rivers
and palaces of green

when our wheels spin

when our wheels spin
within themselves
forever in motion

we no longer seek
the drive and hunger
of the constant spin

the electric hum
the symphony of grinding
gears on gears

turning wheels in
oily machinations
shouts of metal on metal

when we now
are set in motion
we drift in currents

we are flown by winds
and carried by waves
rocked and swayed

in rhythms older than
the inception of memory
and alive with

a primordial pulse
the expansive breath
of creation’s dawn