Monday, August 9, 2010

A new wardrobe

Peace, settle in.
It's a new weight to carry,
this calm,
silence in places where noise vibrated out.
I wear a new skin that craves simple
I want to stop and feel the slight shift in my surroundings,
I don't need to run through it and ignore what lessons it could teach.
Floating, being, resisting. I push back against the frenzy.
Assess and breathe. Feel what comes out.
Sigh, love. And you? Hope. You wear a different look today.
You're still enough for me to appreciate
your many facets.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Balancing the mixture

Too much sugar, we were. Hungry yeast, ravenous yeast, ate too quickly.
So much sustenance, it was, we were
consuming too quickly.
Not conserving; not mindful.
We soon became a sour, acidic dough, that could not rise.
Drowning, was I, in the alcohol. The by-product of our over-eager love.

Work in slowly. Balance me with honey and flour and water.
A little salt.
Cool temperatures, a slow rise. The right length of time,
monitor this,
mind this.
Watch it grow, double. Push it down. Re-build when we fall. Stronger, better structure,
a fashioned interior.
Perfect holes, an airy crumb.
Desire me. Desire us.

You, me.

Flutter open heart again. Let in slowly, absorb what you are giving me.
So sudden.
So easy.
A battered piece is gliding once again. Smoothly, aware.
Patient, this is growing. Yeast working through gluten. Strands forming and stretching. Carbon dioxide giving height,
and texture.
Slip in, stay awhile.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Morning run, trails. Sea.

Crispy wind flows through my arms and down my back.

Crash, waves. foamy sea, high on slick crags. Uneven rocks, winding dirt.

Desert flowers. Snapping sounds, tapping feet, rhythmic pulse and oxygen surges. Lungs sting and pull in sweet air. Birds, you point out, are giving us a soundtrack this morning.

We are part of it, the dirt is pulling us in and releasing us back. It is slighlty comfortable.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Prefumo canyon, morning visit

Stubborn fog clings in the oaks
Verdant, deep green circles the valley and chokes out the drying grass on steep slopes.
life-seeking leaves and grass that grew and gave up
parched mixes into veritable shades of browns and greens, dotting the hills.
Mountains, ancient and rocky, fight for higher air, beating up against each other, reaching upward.
A new valley now. Thick apple orchards swimming together in one whole piece. New fruit waits for autumn hands to come,
to grasp and pull the sweet globes.
Sticky juice prepares to run down chins.
Fog lifts as the valley winds south. Salty air smacks into the rich fruit-infused layer
and the dry grass gives off its unmistakable perfume.

Growing season

Our garden has no order. Carefully sown seeds sprouted and buried deep
in the rich soil. Carrots on top of lettuce on top of
basil, and tomatoes. We tried lots of tomatoes.
Corn in the middle. Always in the middle.
I'm coming out, too. We're trying this together.
Sun, full-sunny days and a nutrient-rich environment.
Soft substrate. Caring hands around.
We'll be fruitful this year and we'll nourish. Swelling fruit and spicy herbs. Sweet lavendar,
sensuous and subtle. Oregano and onions.

Casting a net, casting you away

You drifted into my dreams this morning
those early morning dreams, where the feeling stays with you
sometimes all day.
You were this beautiful un-graspable thing,
which was mostly true.
And I woke up sad, realizing you are truly gone now.
I'm splitting our friendship, I'm casting you away.
Circular net, thrown out in a perfect pancake circle.
to catch bait fish.
Heart, move on. Heart let go.