SKY SERPENT©

AN ANCIENT YOUNGSTER

Tabitha was a temple cat

she eats cookies

walls disappear

we are home again

right here in everyday Santa Clara is the universe

spreads into gardens, creek beds and the Arco station

no one seems to notice

it cannot be explained

no use pointing to weeds and pebbles

an effervescent smile

drift of clouds in their regions

fixing a toilet would serve as a lecture

if it could be put into words

there is so much static

simple repetition staggers through bloodied streets

the dogged code prevails

shedding flowers, exhausted patriarchs and matriarchs, cross walk guards where children skip and play

forgotten are the day's transgressions

illuminated is the evening sky

kids swirl by as I work

you're a gardener aren't you? he sparkles

yeah, and you're a kid, right?

yes!

so we're equal, I say

and laughter rolls down the street

there is no end to it

MIRACLES

OUR WORLD DOES A BRISK TRADE IN CIVILIZATIONS

we huddle for protection, comfort

and an explanation

why, if we're so smart

we are still at the mercy of such inconceivable power

no one thinks of taming it

or ourselves

is there a satellite named Icarus?

shouldn't we tremble

refraining from the obvious taunt

while sweeping pebbles off the bocce court

with less effectiveness than an ant

these puny words arose in a fury of creation

following laws of music and speech

however improbable

Scottish bagpipes wailing

wandering aurora borealis

drone of existence

and though the last solar mass ejection is not on anyone's mind

while drinking coffee

another one is probable

when it takes out satellites and power grids

yet another civilization

goes dark

in light of this

let's appreciate our status

as human beings

however puny the prospect

some do remember our original face

SURCEASE

THE BATTLE GROUND IS STREWN

with lawyers, programmers and politicians

street sweeps lower their eyes

birds are chirping

a police scanner cackles to life

crows follow the proceedings

which leaves no doubt

there have been sun rise cherry blossoms

escapees from dungeons

liberated in a rush of ordinary light

vestments and rituals abandoned

melting into an orchard where crickets chirp

catch them!

but they have no handles

and they are not running

leaving no sudden clues

a sculptor in Santa Cruz

creates a grinning aboriginal mask

painted with pale blue forget me not psychoactive dots

diabolical teeth

a red feather shako

holding a spear in a dark green forest

propped skywards

and no one got it

there were no hurdles

spiders load shipping containers onto giant squids

the very docks that welcomed hero sailors

before pollution choked such possibilities

rising moon on a misted yacht

catch them!

skittering vestiges  of a story fading

all the plinth and pillar of storied thought

supports a golden mean

which vanishes in emptiness, mist, mountains

rituals that pretend

but in the end

civilization's best results are but sketches

leaving valleys in shadow

vast plains strewn with bones

and dust that will settle again

best be gone before then

come along

the way is not far