Fog Unbound

When hilltops vanish into fog

Real Magick happens…

The Language of Birds

Gets automatically translated

By the heart—

Occluded brilliance is the Sun Dog;

Luna, a feline principality

Beyond words.

Breathing is Fine Art!

Oh yes—birdcalls echo through

Ravine muffled and softened at the edges.

All of the morning becomes no more,

No less than me and you

Tiptoe along limestone ledges;

The layer-cake of Mother Earth’s

Trillions upon trillions of fossilized lovers…

This life is no game, nothing to rehearse

It’s the real deal now and here

Under the covers!

Yes, Father Earth, let me pull back your mask

Let me undress all your reasons

To withhold any particle of love;

You are all 3 X 3 colors of quarks

In the innermost Temple of the Atom—

Mute labyrinths

You offer in darkness:

Soft and hazy brilliance of your blue elliptical soul—

This White Dove

Of mystery

You call down with open arms

Avalon’s
Adam.

Abide, abide, abide…

Honor unspoken names of Mother Eve—

Here’s the thing to spread your wings:

On such a hilltop hidden,

Forever twilight

There is no Other Side

And the crack between the worlds

Remains open

Wide…