Ode to discretion

It's a dark word and thought
something that slinks
away and beyond gaze
a night artifact
of the no-no kind
but it's choice
and its multi-colors make

for broad-daylight camouflage
too outrageous to be true
and therefore banished
into unbelievable lands;
indiscretion is innocent
and truth the best cover
from prying eyes.

Aging

And if there comes a day
when the white of white nights
dissolve into the eternity
of frozen dawns
when flowers refuse to fold into buds
and waters will not speed back
upstream and into mountain
when kiss-clouds threaten to break
but don't carry her water
that is when childhood ends
in never-again finality,
a Franciscan told himself
passing an imperishable intersection
unknown to the world.

Ode to Embraces

Is it rock or wave that embraces
I've wondered
mountain or mist
child or mother?
Does river run through valley
and armies through battles
when you fall
does the earth rise to meet you
like lovers seeking the forbidden?
Is love made of I-love-you
or is it the thrust of a heart
into history and tomorrow
looking for a petal and perfume
coming up with dried leaf
and other archeologies
of heart decay
and yet have heart enough
to murmur,
'everything will be alright'?

Song of the Desert

A startled oasis
it is reported
trembled and slipped
on the immemorial quicksand
of tired recollection;
deceived and deceived
by cruel apparitions
desert-fare complement
to taste-robbed dates
from century to century.

Yes, startled
as shimmer congealed
and a visitation
reached out
with a 'May I' request --
so touched by word-feet
it can never sleep again,
it is said.

Jules Verne Love

It doesn't take eighty days
these spins
no balloons or jets
a car perhaps
but for certain loves
an earring holds two
or a few words
that make a paper boat
out of a dream or crystal ball
the directive that's dismissed
is vessel
so too a smoke-ring
and the shade robbed from tree
in a hot noontime
of an unforgettable July.