July [26] 2008


We walk these pebbled paths

through time processions of morning suns

like scuffed stones off the boot.

To count our slow ascent in steps

or mark mountains by flecks of dust–

our bucket’s rot would better mark

a mound of rust…


                  O Goddess of Earth

                  Cauldron of Night,


in shadows I sputter and cringe,

as the path grows thick

I feel the breath

of a bogsnake

at my thigh.


The heart cries long–

where is the Goddess?

I have vanished.


                  In distant light

                  chimes and flute echo.

                  My moccassins touch black sand.


I leave myself

to a unicorn

quietly chewing grass

in the warm rain.


A city is coming near

I hear cellos through the rain

and can see a red temple in the mist.


The musk of damp pine

blends with loud river torrents,

I shiver for hickory tea.


                   I know that you are here

                   O Goddess,  let me come.