30X40” Watercolor on Canvas

There are fences

Defining a space

A pump is in the creek

noise

And fountains of water-spray

across

Neat rows

A river watering the garden flowed from Eden

I was alone on this walk

The man said,
       This is now bone of my bones
       and flesh of my flesh;
       she shall be called woman,
       for she was taken out of man.

The man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.

The road between the fields

Between the fences was lined

With wild plants of all kinds

And a tree grew there

With heavy moss

Grey-green hanging

In the sunlight

Reason and Intuition

Roles and Being

Sun and Moon

Eagle sails across the surface of a waxing moon

The cross of Peter was nailed in upside down

In the morning

A ritual fire burns in the evening

A wooden figure of a goddess with a serpent

A clay man cracks in the coals

Ashes to ashes we all fall down

The itsy bitsy spider

Goes up the spout again

Down goes the rain

And it’s green

hills

And the wind cries Mary

Into the sails

Of Sunday boats on Monterey Bay

“Are you getting up now?

it’s 7:20.”

It sounds like this,

My feet in wet grass

It feels like an instrument of falling,

An unraveling

Of fog whirling

Through the moon trees

The scent of something repulsive

Draws me into her,

An ecstatic fall

From the cliff

Into the canyon lake

Tropical salt

The glitter of snail slime

Trails across the morning grass

My footsteps

Drawing nearer frightened

Dry leaves cracked,

A blue heron sailed from the lake

Of flooded gray trees

I remember the day

They erected

The concrete barrier

Between home and

The wild trees

We weren’t made to dissipate

Into the light

We were made into the gray fog

So quiet for all those years

Seeing the dim moonlight

Even where the canopy

Closes above