I Was There

I was there at the beginning of it
Or maybe I was the beginning of it.
It seemed to have begun on the day that I thought  
I could float to class,
Something of a lemony sensation on the soles of my feet.
I had seen in the rooms nearby,
Art materializing,
Creations that required no responsibility or justification
Were happening, absolutely
Without explanation or prelude,
All manner of expressions where welling and birthing  
They needed no reason,
And were accepted with the muted voice of a nod and smile.
But implicit in the creation was an implied danger and newness
Magma flowing to the surface, hot and radiant
Coursing down mountainsides
Filling valleys  
Sparking new land and fire.
There was a woman who told me that she had epilepsy
But that she did not take medication
Because her seizures gave her such vivid images
And she used them as her muse.
I loved her for this fearless wantonness
And feared her for it too.
There were streams of uncertainties,
There were seismic shiftings to catch like the next wave,
There were parchments upon which I could
Write the next line.
I was there.
I was.

Meet Michael Mapleleaf

Hi, Michael Mapleleaf here.        

I lived for a while in your backyard.

Didn’t notice me? 
Ya, third branch up, way out toward the end…whoa, what a view…
But anyhow I’m down here now, which isn’t so bad
‘Cause it’s Fall
And well, I fell.
And so, about the color thing,
Did ya notice?
I changed!  My spécialité!
Excuse me, I am blushing…J
I’m not a chameleon, no
Although they are pretty spectacular too.
My color is all about being a leaf
A deciduous leaf, to be specific.
Back in the spring, my buddies and I popped out of our
Tree’s branches,
Rookies and a bit green,
But as the summer came on we soaked up the sunlight
And got a good layer of chlorophyll going,
It’s a gift…
We do it because it’s how we help our tree make sugar and grow
And survive the winter.
Remember last year and all of that cold and snow?!  Whew!
Any hoo…
We were going great green
But as the summer wore on
And the daylight hours began to shorten
(Just about the time I saw you hopping back on the school bus)
I began to feel a little faint,
A little faded,
A lot phooey.
Just couldn’t keep up with the green scene,
And so my chlorophyll coat weakened and wore out…
Nothing left to show for it…
Except my other true color!
Red!
Rockin’ the ruby, yes I am!
Pardon my science, but what you are seeing is
Anthocyanin, a pigment that we maples are so
Proud of it makes me flush.
So, that’s the story,
Colorful, no?
But I got to go now,
Fall is almost over and
I seem to have developed a few handsome spots of brown,
And a curiosity to learn more about
What earthworms do…

Jam

Don’t call on me
I’ve gone to bed
I’ll close my eyes
And just see what it means.
No… no it’s all
To close to the bone
I’ve left that door wide open, damn
And so they rush right in, and fill the void
Plaguing me with stones
And stories that I have been
And places that I’ve been told.
No...no you know where the truth is
And it’s not my secret pearl today

For I have shared it with you.

Feathers

"Crow(s) may communicate to you through leaving feathers for you to find.
These serve as a reminder of your connection to spirit or that it is time for you to be still to enable a message from spirit to come through" ...Anon

Waking Up Strange

Sometimes I am a stranger to myself,
In my home, in my place, in:
This body, it seems so familiar, how do I know you?
The sun, does it always feel like this, hot like solstice?
The wind, do I recognize that sound in the tree tops
It seems too loud as it curves from branch to ground.
And my friends, who once seemed so well defined now
Bear the off look, slightly foreign and out of focus,
As they have carried on so famously while I have
Over slept, missed the bus, or forgot the key.
Is it them or is it me?
Like Watson, the computer
Who won on Jeopardy, but didn’t get
The Joke
Who was grandly intelligent yet lacked the nuance
Of what it means to be human ?
These things that might be learned but not easily granted
And need random renewal, without any certain date stamped upon
The card, the expired password, the plaintive expression
Which seems to crumble into desert dust.
Random renewal, but constant.

Drop Off, Pick Up

Why do you leave your feathers for me?
Such seduction garners a bit of suspicion…
And although I enjoy these flirtations
All downy, all stiff and zippered together
All scaly neo-dinosaurian,
Iridescent or buff and shadowy gray,
I still wonder as I bend to retrieve them
Left on the trail side right where
I cannot but help myself,
And so I touch and wonder
And place behind an ear to ponder
Such generous offerings,
Gifts given by friendly but secret strangers
Because I know you only in the moments
As you stop to claim a seed
Or drum on a dead oak in the spring
Or hoot and coo outside my window just last night.
Thank you, I am not ungrateful.
Free, just dropped off
Now picked up
Your feathered beauty beguiles
And serves for a moment to release me with a smile from
My ever-days
And carries me lightly
To your side.