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In all my artist wanderings 
Traveling through these great lands of ours

Places visited or lived in, diverse, memorable
Many messages I received...

As did so many that passed before me
Passing through each wilderness
Learning new steps to take.

                                   ___*___

From the lands themselves, such current’s rising
Graced with as much memory as could be held...

Weaving in with the music’s felt in drifting airs…

Did you hear my singing too, joining too
Off in the distances?

                                       ___*___

Danced I wildly through in all these places
Connecting currents wherever found, discovered…

Becoming one, uniting elements
Strongly manifesting new impressions around chosen places...

Like volcanoes quiet, smelly, silent cones
Some still holding withheld fires.

And such warm cousins, stifling Desert heats
Driving me to ground to wait out the day…

Can you feel this… laughing with me
Waiting until tomorrow’s return.

                                       ___*___

How about even-heated, plain sand places 
Near to Ocean’s rocky, and broken, shell-strewn shores
Having their own tunes to teach...

No place here for barefoot wading
Or, even waiting out the tides to rest.

Holding still there, in your chosen place for sittings...
With only bitter biting fleas and seaweeds stinking
Offering sights and feelings for the day.

                                       ___*___

Though memory can serve up more irksome places
Try Humid swamps with their dank, smelly waters.

Small islanded wildlands opening 
And swiftly closing behind one paddling through.

No trails to follow, just pick any direction
Each offering little argument needed, to leave…

As dusk and darkness settle in early
Ready for new bones to chew on.

                                        ___*___

Quick was I always 
To run away to higher grounds

When alone, lost in high mountain sloping’s
Airs chilling to the bone

Loose scree feeding fears of falling…
Down and down into waiting holes in the ground.

Silent… cold, wet in caves...
Real rocky Earth connecting again.

                                               ___*___

In earlier days, and younger
 Where did that great, silence feeling visit before?

Oh yes, on mystic Moon-lit nights
As the large orb passed it’s own time for reflecting...

Listening then to the rising dark...
The Deep of ocean waters.

Sighing within its quiet waves
Can any chasm be as deep and black as mine?

                                            ___*___ 

All this varied life
Much with bitter laughing…

Well, what else could they even say
’Drop in for a visit…?,’ perhaps.

Dare I even think more crazy things as this
Dare I play so wild, in courting stranger dangers?

                                                ___*___

For be it known, this Earth has many diverse songs to sing
And not all are pleasant melodies, ears find worth hearing.

What do the crowds say…
Oh, less said or sang by most, better to forget

Learning well, few fully sane men are met 
On these sparse empty trails.

So few chasing limits such as these
Through their own many years, then going gray. 

                                                ___*___

Crazy is... this courting chaos
Finding yet still, many new in such haunted places

Why not, are they fit for naive youth, or wise old men.
Youth for learning true
Elder courting curiosities, unsettling to Soul’s home.

Trying to tie mysterious energies rising together 
Merging balanced to be enveloped
By the later sitting-still.

                                                  ___*___

Enough of this and those
That given in Time and its special places

Wait for waking presence in mind 
Sometimes waking old, ancient memories…

Hearing connecting from a deep, quiet within
‘I’ve been here before…’

Ah, for the true artist
Just the place to pursue real art impulses

Where else can the right fools be found?
Can we still dance?
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