Under the Night Moon

She peers out the window into the
night, under the rays of the moon.
From somewhere the words appear: bamboo moon.

She climbs through the large
opening of a bamboo shoot,
crawls up and up,

guided
by the moon;
light filters in.
Dark womb,
she feels a swaying
motion through her limbs,
a lake in sight, midnight blue
stretched across years. When
she reaches the end of the bamboo
she pauses at the
opening,

sitting on her knees, gazing
up at her reflection in the lake—
bamboo moon.

Night Waves

Waves crash in the night, reflecting the light of the full moon. Sabine walks on the beach’s edge pondering love. Two kinds: love that smothers and love that let’s go. Many thoughts ebb and flow through her consciousness with the crashing of the waves. She feels the mist on her face and the taste of salt upon her lips, as her feet melt into sand crystals. She is alone on the beach.

She sees the patterns—they stare back at her; the reel turning all different ways, upside down, forward, sideways, zig zag. The flash goes off, a million tiny flashes twinkling in the sky, pulsing through her body.

The bottom of her white flowing skirt is becoming wet from the thunderous waves. Her long brown hair blows ever so soft in the wind, circling her shoulders. She takes the bottom of her skirt in her hands and runs into the ocean. Once in the water, she begins to strip her clothes from her body. She doesn’t need them any longer. She swims out and twirls around. As she swims still further, all that is visible in the distance is a shimmering on the ocean’s surface where she dances in and out of the sea.

Crow ~ The Great Beyond

Walking in the blazing morning sun
thinking about decisions and life changes,
Crow flys past, closely.
I look up as I usually do,
to acknowledge his presence.

I walk, bag in hand, books, library.
Not a few steps--and wings--the graceful thrust echoes
upon the closest part of my hearing, as though
If I moved but one inch, his wings
would have scraped my cheek.

I move my head after he passes.
He flies up to the top of the traffic light.
This is the closest Crow has ever come to me.
I look up, adjust my gaze upon him,
look up with reverence and awe--
Indescribable moisture wells;
the beating of my heart in tune
with something from the great beyond.