thoughts and things

These turning times as seasons spin silk through trees
crafting hammoks of reflection born in childhood dreams
...
each day I wake and rise, later to aspire that
these steps are acts of worship to this gracious earth
cradling life
...
nestled under this thin atmosphere I rest
gazing at neighboring stars
as I prepare to die, so to
do I live
...
carefree clouds continue to follow these footsteps through fields, plowed or thriving fallow
...
honesty is the wind that
caresses a cheek while
drowning sailors or
knocking forests flat
....