Glimpses

I have this
great
big
heart

and nowhere to rest it.

Except in my own hands.

So

I stand strong
And lift up my love
So the world can see it shine
In the sun

I find the beauty
in the cracks
Now healed
Clean scars now glisten
Like cuts on a diamond.

Perhaps
In this new light
I can light up
Some stranger's shadows,
And they can stand strong,
Too.

Journey

I am young, still.

At times I feel old, as if I have lived long enough to know all, as if I carry wisdom in the dust on my feet.

I am a fool.

I know some things of the world.  I have so much more to see, to learn.  I must remember that knowledge is not understanding, experience is not wisdom.  I have only just opened my eyes to the world, my life thus far only a glimpse -- and blurred as in the first moments of waking.  I have learned that the world will not hand over its secrets to me calmly.  I must fight, determined to make my way against the surge of those who bet against me.  Sometimes it is only a battle to stay afloat, in other moments I seem to speed ahead, leaping and diving forward into life head first.

Sometimes I find myself sinking.

Yet, I have been blessed enough to be loved.  Those who love me have come and pulled me back towards the surface countless times.  I must remind myself to remain calm, so I do not drown them in my panic, or force them to let me go.  This lesson has been hard to learn, and certainly not one I have mastered.

One thing I have learned: 

Trust is such a delicate creature.  In one foolish, panicked moment it be shattered, crushed, suffocated -- and it cannot be resurrected, there is no 'breath of life' or miracle technology that can heal those wounds.  If you are lucky, bits of trust might be found buried in love (as love cannot die, only languish), and from those remnants you can begin to rebuild.

I only hope that as I discover the world, I become less a fool, stepping carefully and remaining calm, so that I can pull those who are sinking up with me.

Maybe, some day, we'll fly.

Seeker.

I seek out knowledge,

like some old-world gypsy,

wandering within the confines of this earth. 

I am a seeker.

Unlocking secrets, cloaked in science 

               --my own alchemy overturning riches of a new kind.  

               --my own captivated curiosity an enchantment, 

                 enticing the most delicate creatures to divulge the intricate details of their existence.  

And I piece together the world, from the bottom up.

Fairy Fly (Mymaridae Wasp) Photo Credit: Mr. Spike Walker

fungi

fungi.

miniscule.

drawing from the earth,

the bits and pieces we cast away.

a tiny world, 

under feet.

known 

to those 

attentive 

enough 

to notice

cautious
enough 

 to care.

First Hike 2011

snow pushed across a frozen lake,
like sand across a desert,
bright white light blinds,
wind sends shivers down our spines,
and still we trek across this crystallized world,

all for the love of science.

We
set out to crack the ice,
used an ekman dredge device
and pulled up some cold macrophytes.

We
analyze samples and we may find,
with carbon dating, keep in mind,
this sediment may be quite senescent,
its history likely reminiscent
of slowly melting glaciers.

finding elegance: micro

an entire world
         moves
             and grows
                   and fights without conciousness,
 each moment,
         each motion a response to instinct,
                                                     programming alone

eat. grow. divide.
eat. grow. divide.

where competition abounds, with enemies swarming all around
                                            and change a constant, chaotic force.


survive. survive. survive. 
survive. survive. survive. 


where in mere days,
                      sometimes hours,
one species becomes two, and so on. 


eat. grow. divide.
eat. grow. divide.



where chemistry reigns supreme,
          and physics underlies all forms,
                            in motion, structure,
                                                 sometime random and spasmotic,
                                                 often smooth and elegant.



all contained in a drop of pond water.




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Sometimes my days are full of studying, figures, memorization and I forget to look for the beauty in everything.  Sometimes the beauty comes screaming from the pages of my textbook and I sit up and gaze around in wonder at this world.

Simplicity (Just an Idea I'm working on)

is lovely.
is easy.
is elegant.
is free.

Delighting in the little pleasures and surprises.
Going without.
Choosing to fill life with experience instead of things.
Sharing with those in need.

Simplicity.

Even the most complex secrets of the universe can be explained by many simple steps.
Love.
War.
Dance.
Life.

Cold.

Light, bright and glaring, prompts tears as I step out into a world of harsh cold, biting winds, and striking beauty.

Bright white light, reflected from every angle, illuminates a landscape defined by shifting shadows.  

Screaming winds sweep up ice crystals that tear the skin and block the sun and all falls dark

                     ---only cold and the harsh wind, with hope to guide the way. 

Winter, fiercely delicate, a force that simultaneously makes one want to weep for the beauty, run for the terror.  

what is real?

the cold has come.
toes exposed.
shivers up this spine
winter creeps over this nude form

i resist the urge to run through the streets
raving subconscious slipping out
as words drift from dream to reality

i wake.  Cold in the night.

On hope.

How is it that in this world where life is brief and love is fleeting that we allow for waste? We life in a world where every moment SHOULD be spent protecting the fragile life that still, somehow, is only held together by, lets face it, mostly luck and very little planning.  We (citizens of Earth) have this mentality of us versus them, always trying to take more, to be better than our neighbors all around. When will we realize that there is only one planet for all to share?

the loud, dangerous, beautiful world that is.

Life, so fleeting -- like birds on a line,

first full, heavy 

with burdens which bring great joy
and knowledge
and music
but constantly changing,
each little burden called away
by some greater cause,
or blown away by harsh winds,
or frightened by the great,
loud,
dangerous,
beautiful world that is.

Home

Well, the Earth once told me a story, though I didn’t know it at the time, of the rest of my life.  I walked down a path in the woods, weaving my way through the trees, breathing in the clean, fresh, earthy air you find only in a forest nowadays.  Birds darted among the trees around me, singing their song and hoping to find a mate.  Critters shuffled in the underbrush, scampering around as I came through their woods, startling them.  As I walked a long, for a moment I felt completely at home.  Yes, this is where I belong.  

petrichor

bright light flashing against dark clouds, 

cool breeze flows over warm skin, 

involuntary horripilation, 

remnant of a distant life

water falls from the rumbling sky,

raindrops calm summer's burnt skin, 

cool, humid air rushes into warm lungs,

carrying earthy flavor

watch in wonder as the world rumbles

water

there is a place,
                                    its in my mind,
where rivers flow,
                                    intertwined,
across a valley,
                                    green and good,
into a basin,
                                    deep and blue,
that spans the distance
                                    from me to you.




flowing water on the mind, that rushes, cold and clean... ...
forging a new way through stubborn stone,
that life might find some solace amid the ruins.. .

(Laws of Nature)

Somehow in the dark

when sleep fails

thoughts drift through the night

on autopilot.

And there you are. 

Standing in the sunshine

that breaks through the green

smiling, in the forest

at me. 

I

-- who in true form,

mud streaked face and mussed hair

look up at you,

with the deadly intoxicating scent of cyanide,

(Amaretto)

floating up  from cupped  hands

hands in which I offer you

just one of the secrets of the forest

I so love. 

And then you’re gone.

Whipped away by the sounds of the city, sleeping—

sirens pealing through the night

A reminder of the spontaneous nature of chaos.

Chaos, through which all things are formed, destroyed, reformed. 

Order only returned with energy, work- manifested in countless ways.

Sleep comes as the mind, assured that these laws of nature hold true

releases the last image of you--

smiling, in the forest

at me.

waking

i watch
the fog roll off the lake
and over the city until i am
surrounded by its thick, cold dampness
before i step into the unknown.

the darkness of winter
mornings, chill, early,
before the city awakes

allows for meditation.

i find myself--in the darkness of winter mornings.

down down down

water flows

down down down

into the shallow blue of My lake.

from the hills where the glacier died,

across the gentle slope of land,

through the slowly flowing wetlands,

in sparkling webs,

water flows.

down down down

into the shallow blue of My lake.

where once the emerald forests stood entwined

a people lived and grew,

building cities, harsh with brick and stone,

until the forests I once knew

were burned away to wasteland.

yet.

water flows down into the shallow blue of My lake.

october

october winds whip around her figure,

standing naked, barefoot in the field beside the house.

october raindrops fall on her skin,

shivering, pale against the night.

he walks out to wrap her in a blanket,

standing side by side they look into the lasting dark

wondering what lies just out of sight.

october night envelops two figures,

clinging, desperate in the night.

october morning brings gentle sun,

waking two figures, slowly.

Wandering

Sun warms skin even as I shiver against that breeze.

I watch you smile, climbing to meet me.

Settling in for a nap in the grass I realize this is beautifully easy.

Waking in your arms ready to face the night

where in the dark we walk, towards the sunrise

and when we reach the ocean, then we will sleep in the dark again.

Entropy

there is a place that's lost in time

existing in the space between seconds

where silence echos in the mind

and moments, memories swell and rise

like ocean's constant churning.

and there is where the soul resides

where each emotion,

lost to time, collides

with passing of two minds

as that place between the seconds 

perpetuates this chaos.