craft stories into chants

speak in poem

water drips onto me from car window

boys play with shooting stars

bicyclists drop embers in dark streets

crow feather gifts

the river easing & evening me

a mirror the sky laid in, the clouds went away

must believe the poet’s voice needs to be heard

so speak & act & make an example

need to chant & sing & plant seeds

a nurturing builder like the beavers

bless and greet all life. recognize the spirit everywhere

trees are no less than people

our bodies are filled with oceans of soul

it smells like seashells in between the doors

no introduction necessary, this is cosmic energy

we can be gypsies and build our houses anywhere

white belly up fish floated by

as I remembered waking from a dream

with my arms held straight up as if reaching for god

hope something eats that fish belly and sings praise to the water

why did they cut down that biggest tree & leave only concrete?