Window

frogs begin their night song, an ostinato
of B sharp, played by a perfectly
persistent string orchestra- thrum,
thrum, thrum, thrum-thrum

breeze leaks through each screen sieve,
gentle reminder of coming autumn,
for now summer sits contentedly on
her haunches relishing the heat of

day the song of night, the stars
that come out in lions and triangles,
teapots and scorpions, dippers and
dragons, cosmic miracles on display

like aurora borealis which
tossed up twice this year and
Perseid showers, a hundred fiery rocks
streaking Earth’s atmosphere each hour

Threshold

Revelation comes on the wings of hummingbirds. I know because today in a sunlit meadow, I paused and sat to share the rhythmic pulse of living with ants, bees, dragon flies, song sparrows, dark-eyed juncos, yellow-rumped warblers, and one spritely calliope hummingbird who flew down through the tall pine and hung near a stalk of blue grama grass, looked at me, then double-zapped right back up into the tall trees.

Go there.

Joyous voladoras, whirring imperative nearly beyond human perception, almost impossible to grasp and parse at first message, pendulous for that instant—a breath a beat, fuchsia throat shuddering, then off to the elsewhere with sweet memos for others. There’s a portal that opens when you list to that murmur, that stir, that hum, that heart dispatch. It warmly beckons where you need to go.

Go there.

A susurration of tiny judders– things you know, you’ve learned, you’ve practiced, you’ve observed, you’ve lived—and always the rustling of the beyond. The change, the growth, the movement, the light, the enlightenment that hover just past the portal of the sentient carried on the quilled beak of this miniature message-bearer.

Go there.

This tiny gem of a creature invites us to step into the limen. Many times, the margins of our lives line up like archways in an M.C. Escher print. The path through the portals we walk feels exhaustingly ceaseless, unremitting. Yet, as we move through these portals, each shift, each growth, each change leads us to the doorway to new erudition. We see the final arch, sense the dawning strength of the open air, and pass through into an incredible landscape of unprecedented being.

Go there.

New Ocean

I woke from another dream
last night and discovered that I
was on a completely new ocean,
another dimensional existence

both comforting, strangely peaceful,
and equally mystifying, to come to
epiphany that life has migrated to
new extents, reverberating on the astral plane

Wish

if i could know what
the next episode would bring
i would be water