It’s been a long ol’ time since I posted on this blog.  Mostly because I needed to go inward for a while.  Mostly because my new poetry collection, So Speak the Stars, is coming out on March 1, and I’ve been hella busy.  Mostly because once you start eschewing posting on your blog for spending your nights staring up at the stars, it becomes a habit.  Mostly because I am addicted to moonlight.  But I wrote this a few nights ago, in the throes of light bathing.  I was looking for a pic of a red bird to post with it, and my dear friend, artist Ken Wolverton, posted this painting on Facebook.  My poem doesn’t include a pig, but the painting was too beautiful to pass up, and he said I could use it.  This poem is a prayer of some kind, as are all of my poems.




Unharness me from the terrestrial.

Unhinge my mind.

Undo these lies, the cries

of madmen who see flesh when they see me.


As if I was not born with cobras dangling from my ears.

As if you did not speak in shades of blue.

As if the clouds were not grasping and vaporous, gaping

to swallow us whole, hungry as they are for God.


At night, I weep in my sleep

for the scars on your knuckles

as if the holy books hadn’t warned me that mere men

make messes of miracles, nailing their feet to trees.


In my dreams, I am a fish licking your heels,

drinking drops of the holy water upon which you walk.

In my songs, I am cardinal.

I flurry before you, filling your hair with red feathers.


White light bends in your direction,

and who could blame it?

Seeking to be sifted by the prism of you

as am I.


My third eye opens

wearing your face as an iris.

I dive into your throat

and float in a moat


of love.




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