Straw beds waiting
prickly,
scents of roasted wheat
wafting up dignified noses
as sore bodies shuffle over
to lay down, opening
minds to wander at midnight
Rewinding the day to begin
In the mourning--
the grain reaped at twilight
has gone
like spring chickens to market,
the day’s toil settled in
hay collection,
feeding winning cattle
Now resting, tails still
bovine eyelids closing
like heavy drapes
turning to the hollow stalks,
straw
bedding fit for racehorses
mulch for specific weeds of late-night musings
In the stillness of blue, black sky
the stars flicker into existence
an old melody croons in the wind
holding all the suspended pieces,
to settle across the vast plane
against cool desert air
it comes to fill
your weary human core
with substance
and your mind with fuel
beating in a rhythmic warming
low rumble, percussion
housed within ribs
melding into song
to last a lifetime
Moments of pure golden elation
stretched along violin strings
pulling liquid sorrow down your cheeks
devastation
Shift in view
there at the cusp lies silver lining
pushing angry red welts
to surface, screaming
soothed by water
poured from caring hands
patiently waiting for your return
to love once more
Notes floating over moist tongue
to reach the yellow moon
passing the lonely wolf’s call
through living forest
into the warmth of straw bedding
Saturating,
as meaning catches--
spiritual in its embrace,
Open consciousness
cherished in full,
grown from seeds of grain ls still
bovine eyelids closing
like heavy drapes
In the stillness of night,
as the stars flicker into existence
an old melody croons in the wind
holding all the suspended pieces,
twisting them
to settle across the vast plane
against cool desert night
it comes to fill
your weary human core
with substance
and your mind with fuel
beating in a rhythmic warming
low rumble, percussion
housed within ribs
melding into song
to last a lifetime
Moments of pure golden
elation
stretched along violin strings
pulling liquid sorrow down your cheeks
devastation
Yet at the cusp lies silver lining, hope
pushing angry red welts
to surface, screaming
only to be soothed by soft water
poured by caring hands
patiently waiting for your return
to love once more
Like notes floating over moist tongue
to reach the yellow moon
passing the lonely wolf’s call
through living forest
into the straw bedding
Saturating,
as meaning catches--
spiritual in its embrace,
Open consciousness
cherished in full,
grown from seeds of grain
Layered Fragments, Becoming Whole 