i see you
butterflies, loyal endeavor, gathering pollen
birds delirious in the delight of flight
clouds autonomous to wander in the wonder
rainbows magically appear, silently vanish
wheat swaying in the wind's caress
irises erect in the day's glory
cat balanced on a picket fence
bound for a night's glory
streams wandering in purpose
seeking their greater destination
without a worry in any ripple
rocks giving them song
as the heavenly feathered join in tune
rising upwards the slopes
from valley to mountain's end
harboring meadows of serenity
the sunflower's gaze never leaves
the path of light
where wander fawn and dove
was this not at peace
in the garden they speak of
the metaphors within it all
articulate it well
i see you
life is a miracle
worthy of an attitude of gratitude
i hear that in a baby's cry
i see you
i walk with you
i love you
you are the promise
within Creation's breath
Unambiguous in its cosmic Exhalation
Oregon 9/20/26
(for Stephen)
There’s a certain point in summer
when it feels like it’ll last forever
a dazed mix of complacency and lethargy
when everything is tired
from the gardens, to the dogs, to our senses.
Satiated perhaps, but it’s something more,
a sense we have arrived at the peak of the peak season,
the fullness of Leo,
in all his solar glory,
and what can top that?
Of course this is about the exact time the nights get cooler,
we notice the peak has passed,
and winter approaches
with all those chores undone.
So is life....
in all its simplicity,
and yet with this endless cycle of seasons
the endless cycle of human ups and downs also churns on,
all the things that
naturally arise in our habitual
dualistic mind.
And this is far more taxing and exhausting
than the external heat and dust and smoke,
exhausting and overwhelming,
at least for me.
So a good friend tells me something today
he probably didn’t make up
but just as easily as anyone could have;
“Everything you need you can get from a single exhalation.”
(Originally published in my 3rd book, Sun Made Flesh and Fiber, 2019)
It was in the depths of winter 2010
At minus ten degrees.
There were silver wires of spider webs
And bare hardy trees.
Through the mist of my exhalation
A feeling beyond belief -
I stop and admire with fascination
The glittering outline of this hedgerow leaf.
It was stiffened by the hoar frosts sting,
Glossed by the kiss of daylight,
Holding on tight in a breezy swing,
Its crystallised edges sparkling bright.
Is it true that if you imagine cold scenes
You'll feel cold too? Worth a go!
In this heatwave I'll think of crystallised leaves
And how frost on frost can grow.
Inhalation,
exhalation...
When the pattern stops,
a person drops,
and their life is done.
If they get another one,
that's reincarnation.
.
motes
sunbeams
spectral view
exhalation
could blow you away
I choose to breathe you in
travel via my airways
you become intoxicating
I know that you take my breath away
a constricted throat opens my mind
lay dying in imagined arms
astral asphyxiation
paved road to redemption
flickers in and out
radiant light
bathed in silk
imbibed
end
.
Clearly debriefed;
what if escalation.
Exhalation; don’t
relax. Remember
the facts. Living
dead flow on empty roads.
Remember the broad
streets of the mall,
where the dead lurk
and maul. Empty,
the shelves, two days
after malice of ice,
near and far. Skate
to the center, fall in;
what were you after?
Remember vegetables
don’t grow on shelves;
they arrive on big wheels.
One starts to question,
“where does good and plenty
come from?” A wholesale
disaster could be payday.
The living dead make their beds
under the fluorescent lights;
buzzing on open shelves.
There is plenty of room
for doom. I had to leave
the room. Breathing too loud.
Left with clothes on my back,
a card, a heart attack.
Grateful for provisions,
for meat in my freezer,
rice in my pantry,
cream of mushroom,
fried okra, lights,
water and electricity.
Electricity in Publix
unnecessary. Feet
moving, squeaky carts;
I’m darting out the doors.
Should I warn those
coming in. Should I
even look at them…
{A Quick Exercise for Beginner Meditators to Focus on Fearlessness}
sit in easy pose observing chin
through closed eyes inhale deeply
suspend breath~ hold~ recite
i am bountiful blissed
breath exhalation
inhale~hold~recite
beautiful am i
hold
exhale
let go of breathe
mentally recite
fearlessly excell fearlessly excell
"Winter breath flutters to an exhilarating dance on nostalgic moments, giving way to beauty."
Quote by poet
The bursting sun, a flower of gold radiance,
An idle footprint of time. A sweet, warm, healing
Friendship, spiced with the rhythm of nature's affection.
It weaves perfection upon longing hearts and souls.
Brightening the world, toying upon the window.
Spun frozen dewdrops glisten under the sunlight.
A walk in consolation, about hopeful fields,
A rebirth exhalation to marvel and sigh.
Rainbow shimmer of magic grackles and ravens
A perfect partnered dance on naked tree branches.
Leaves in downward whorl upon the latent carpet;
Cheerful, awe-inspiring as squirrels wobble through.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She moves with composure across the dry grass,
her exhalation forms a silver line in the cold air.
Her hands trace patterns of frost upon the window’s glass pane,
an artist absorbed in art created with harsh fanfare.
She softly hums, her voice echoing along the icy lane
singing a song filled with shivering notes, low and deep.
Her dress, crafted by the swirling snowstorm, her beauty attained
her crystal diamonds sewn where footsteps carefully creep.
She kisses the earth and sleeps with lullabies,
her voice a hush of wind through skeletal trees.
Her laughter? Just the howl that shakes the skies,
Her sorrow? Icicles that snap and freeze.
Earth’s vibrant hues remain hushed beneath her white,
awaiting renewal and the stirring of returning light.
She’ll leave when spring unthreads her pale disguise~
the sunshine and warmth bringing her much anticipated demise.
I stand tall and green, shading, like an umbrella,
Towering over the gray shingle roofs of my neighborhood.
And evergreen I am called; I stay green all year round.
My leaves never turn golden and russet colors
That float down and gather among the emerald-green grass.
Only my fallen acorns that lie scattered are gathered
By the squirrels that scurry around.
My leaves dance when the exhalation breath waltzes around
And tickles my fancy. At night, the mockingbirds perch
Among my limbs and serenade me to sleep.
Baby's first breath
Requires a regulated inhalation of air
Expelled through exhalation
Allowing life to begin.
This is usually followed by
Hearing baby's loud cry
Letting relieved parents to
Express their delighted excitement.
Signified by wide satisfied smiles
Sometimes this elation leaves them breathless.
Spring’s Abysmal Guile
By Sy Roth
A vapor rises, rank as the charnel pit,
a corruption of a miasma vast,
as though some sepulcher, long sealed,
split its stony jaws to breathe.
Vile exhalation of a corrupted world.
The reveler, unwitting wretch
treads the decadent fields where verdure writhes,
each blade a hostile tendril, squamous, cold,
glistening with ichor
No earthly fount its progenitor.
He deems the shade of evil vanquished,
trampled beneath his hobnailed boot.
The soil heaves with malefic will,
its roots, like veins of some primordial fiend,
pulses with a rankness older than the stars,
a stench that whispers of aeons lost.
Spring cloaks itself in verdant pall,
no bloom, but scales of a vast, unuttered thing,
its thorns a raven’s beak, evermore to rend, to sow, to bespoil.
He quaffs the tainted zephyr,
proclaiming triumph over a gloaming moon,
Swept in the season’s unseen talons,
fathomless ennui
creeps through his sinews,
entombing his soul in an abysmal cleft unshriven.
the clockwise spiral
withdraws the universe
manifestation and movement
making potential all that is kinetic
humming at a stillness point
at core of consciousness
being the eternal I Am
then the exhalation
creative energy in motion
allows dream forms to dance
in the template of sacred geometry
wherein I Am all that is manifest
present as love’s heartbeat
within each earth entity
repeated immersions
into whirlpools of duality
gradually refines sensibilities
of eternal light of Self which I Am
that merging into heart of God
I glisten therein like a gem
radiating love and light
exhalation death, inhalation life
all earth bound souls are drawn toward the light
free from strife we all wish to be bliss rife
light that lights all lights banishing the night
bestowing upon us, spherical sight
be this as it may, whatever we fear
a blockage that does not let God draw near
SITTING ON MULTICOLORED CARPET SQUARES
LOST IN THOUGHT, BUT THINKING OF NOTHING AND NOONE
SO MANY RIVERS HAVE CHANGED IN RANGE OF FLOW
UNEXPECTED ARE THE DIRECTIONS THAT THE ROCKS SKIP
IT IS THEN THE THE MULTICOLORED CARPET SQUARES BECOME AMBIDEXTROUS
UNPREDICTABLE ARE THE INTERCHANGES OF TIME
ALL BREEZEWAYS AND ENTRYWAYS BECOME MORE NARROW WITH ABUSED AGE
ALL OF A SUDDEN A STORM BREWS WITH CONSTIPATED RAGE
THE LAXATIVE OF RELEASED FREEDOM IS A MUCH WELCOMED CHAPTER OF EXHILARATING EXHALATION
THE MULTICOLORED CARPET SQUARES DISSIPATE WHEN THE SLUMBERS ARE THE DEEPEST
MASSAGE CHAIRS FRESH FROM SOME ABANDONED MALL WILL BE CHOSEN NEXT TIME, NEXT CHAPTER
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