Soul's Music: Thoughts & Reflections

Intro...

Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.

~T. S. Eliot

The Poet's Song

A poet's beauteous words flow easily from within,

liken to a mountain stream crystal pure in its innocence

and each verse is an aria heard the world o'er and bold

by those attuned to its special harmonies therein told.

Introspection and musings will prevail throughout time

for the nuances be e'er to pleasure those of like mind,

shared in dulcet beguiling tones of sweetest melodies,

as a catalyst for beauty's tears shining ever bright in kind.

Come dance with me to the poet's verse never droll,

as faeries and tree sprites have done for centuries gone by.

Come closer still to the poet's eddied pools of glowing light,

to hear the bard's words...e'er soothing the anxious soul.

Do persuade gracefully the muse in nature's realm,

for each glorious voice shares deeply in perfect harmony

and words and phrases flow as a gentle restoring rain,

as they are captured in the poet's song of sweet refrain.

Forms, lines and rhythm may ever duty owe;

each style given will pleasure those who come to read

and truths may be softly whispered on each sighing bough above,

fore'er taking one on a journey of soul's beauteous poetry done.

***~~~***

From 'The Southwest Celebration' Collection

Ancient Voices

As I gaze into the iridescent distance of dawn,

I see granite mountains and wind-swept sage

acknowledged and embraced by clear azure skies

while morning shadows move slowly along dry ground,

meandering through the rich copper-tan landscapes

Sand lizards dart in and out of tiny rock cairns

and larger caves are the home of Spirit ancestors,

their long ago muted voices and emotions

can still be heard carrying on the desert wind,

each note crying out over ancient landscapes seen.

Desert Solitude

Seas of fine sand shimmer white in the sun,

studded with creosote bush and blue-gray sage,

laced by nature through the barren emptiness

as castles of light steam in the desert heat

e'er embracing great basins of soundless peace.

Shoals of silence cradle vast desert underneath

and velvet mountains reach to a cobalt sky

while violet clouds gather on the far horizon

when sun's last glory gives to the earth tranquility

and all life moves towards crimson waves of twilight.

Hawks soar on high thermals, there's shy wild Deer,

Squirrel and Geckos preen on each night's cue.

Coyotes howl and bay at the silver'd moon

and evening shadows have their own life here,

whether found in the soul or seen outside windows

...on any given day or year.

Lines of Fulmars can be seen aloft,

Owls and Bald Eagles perch on dry fence posts

while Hummingbirds, Coot and white-faced Ibis

compete with Swans and Teals and Geese galore,

as I put name to what flies on gilded wing by my door.

Behold...everywhere in this teaming gift of nature,

boundless power absorbs the eerie silence

whilst sunset fires the earth to a shimmering gold

and night creeps nearer bringing a gentle softening,

subduing the ever-changing vibrant tones

and never-ending unspoiled desert views.

Desert Springtime

Desert wild flowers wait patiently

for desert rains to feed their growth,

those of Brittlebrush, Desert Marigolds

and brawny spikes of blue Lupines,

whose ten thousand years have shaped

in each...a perfect genetic code.

Barrel Cactus and Prickly Pear,

Palo Verde and feral Palms all nod

to Golden Poppies and Pinion forests

and River Willows bending there.

Indian Paint Brush growing wild

with Evening Primrose in profusion

adds to the desert's vivid palette

of precious flowers waiting, e'er greeting.

Giant Saguaros grace and bejewel

desert floors with subtle colors,

their arms reaching to granite buttes,

only if El Nino has a tender care.

The paths to Dutchman's Mountain

and Hells Canyon will challenge in beauty

Picacho Peak to Crosscut Trail...and

all that wings in with the desert marl.

Bees, Butterflies and tiny Hummingbirds

hurriedly fly home in a stormy sky.

Flashes of lightening on Mummy Mountain

and South Mountain in yonder distance

gives the charmed illusion...of

ghostly specters rising from the mist.

Sweet-smelling streams and shallow rills

twist and curl into a perfect morning

while birds sing to a muted desert sunrise

and drover loads and stubborn Mules

call on the hallmarks of the wilderness

to saunter into the changing haze...as it

whispers along the sleeping valley floor.

Jagged castles of standing stone

are touched by each glowing daybreak

found just ahead and yet beyond

while Geese, Ducks and Beaver's spawn

make silver ribbons on the glass like surface

of waiting pools of arroyo's pond.

Hungry Hawks soar high seeking food

while Deer graze with yearlings and their fawns

and the industrious Eagle builds a nest.

Yet...winds can rage and rains can issue

and strong storm gusts can convolute

to sail you off to Heaven's alluvium

while needed Elysian waters pure

...continue to pour and pour.

And then...in absolute quiet,

the desert breezes carefully footnotes

those subtle shifts and changes true,

e'er meeting in the ambient ethers

like percussion music sounding there,

its swelling crescendo stilled quiescent

and all is hushed to hear the symphony

playing in harmony...playing there.

The desert wilderness in its lambent beauty

with all its glorious and profound mystery

embraces me fully to it

like a lost child seeking fireside

...coming home

...coming home.

Shaman's Memory

There is timelessness in this desert place

of Shaman's legend and fleeting memory,

of smoking fires and dreams and pinion trees,

its endless wilderness and dry arroyos

as each waits for the gentle kiss of rain.

Beyond I see the mountains and foothills

against the waiting watchful sky so blue.

I remember the night's quiet, the canyon's still

while the setting sun casts strong shadows

across the ripples and ridges of granite fill.

I feel the call and pull of the high country

and it's towering waiting mountains there,

the crisp scent of pine needles wafting...drifting

and the Eagle's claim to canyons and green valleys

crying out to the chill of morning light found bare.

I hear haunting rhythms of a Medicine Man's song

shivering gently on the ever shifting wind

and through the waiting trees and sacred canyons

while Cottonwood and Horses and round Hogans

can be seen in the watchful desert still.

Ivory east, Saffron west, Ebony north, Turquoise south,

each separate wind whispers notes of reflection

and the heart holds things close and precious,

those of the Shaman and Hand-tremblers

and the Stargazers crossing to the in-between.

More still moments keep expanding in the ethers,

those of starless nights and crushed white Sage

and roofless rooms of ruins beckon...where

time flows differently in the deepening calmness

with such freedom of stillness in the soft desert hum.

Then, a rumble of thunder...a curl of lightening

reminds prudently...desert storms can power and rage

and this same lightening can knife the distant horizon

searching for upright targets to tease and join with,

so its heavenly energy can pass down through the land.

Each believer responds to the torrents of nature

calling on the earth and rain deities and elusive spirits

to e'er find those fugacious layers of dark and light

or even those mysterious layers of good and evil,

a tapestry of conflict with jagged ragged edges

and yet...so beautiful to behold in the night.

And when the storm passes through the desert,

it makes the parched land strong and resilient,

the people, the sky, the songs, the legends,

all timeless rhythms from things known in the now,

circling and surrounding past and present

with the future hovering nearby in gentle folds.

Scattered sand paintings hug the forgiving earth

while the heavens encourages the traveler on.

Night's mystical power reigns in supreme balance,

knowing the nature and secret of all things told.

The earth gently whispers in the Shaman's ear,

sharing its mythos and unspoken folklore and

every ancient superstition known to man,

especially those waiting in the dreamtime now.

I listen carefully to the dry earth speaking

its ancient riddles...e'er I come this way again.

The fragrance of scrub Cedar and gnarly Juniper

begin their soft melodies and large yonder boulders

contrasting with red rock slabs stacked in a row,

reflect the glorious setting sun layering banded colors,

a horizontal rainbow to make a quiet wish upon.

Glowing night fires wink on distant flat mesas,

gather and embrace shadow's illusion of movement,

each pointing to the twisting road back home.

Earth's songs begin to still in the growing silence,

echoing the empty places inside the waiting soul.

In my last enthralling vision I see winding paths rising,

more paths falling, those simple paths turning corners,

showing me such wondrous unpretentious things

while newly beginning sacred rainfall

cuts more canyons and arroyos of fleeting memory

through the e'er waiting and warm desert sand.

Early morning mist shrouds the silent canyons,

Father Sky holds firmly the sun's warmth...and

asks it to 'wait please' to visit earth later on.

Crisp cold air currents bring new purpose

to the ever vigilant tabletop mesas...and in

the uphill...downhill...and in-between valleys

are the endless vistas brushed with vibrant colors

as the earth and the sky meet and gently mate.

And when the last of night-fires flame wild in rhythm,

they then slowly flicker and wane into the dawn.

Bitterball, Larkspur, Sage and Eagle feathers

bring eager Shamans from the earth's four directions

looking for their answers, only to be found written

in the timeless rock face where the stone figures dance

beneath the stars and in the easing breath of wind.

Therein is where all Nature's truths are written

and time is slowed to a moment unencumbered...for

life is a twining ribbon joining with the chant of time,

looping, folding in...and then turns back on itself,

taking you to where all things begin...once again.

Desert Mysteries

Rambling trails through desert sand,

ancient monoliths beckon,

each chanting with wisdom

as they whisper their hidden secrets.

"Come visit me...

let no one doubt my Noachian mysteries

for I've cradled great civilizations

...lost and found...lost and found

as the desert wind gently renews them."

Ancient cities with winding trails

witness full moon rising, stars unveiled.

Walk quietly and whisper softly

and see their treasures

stretched out before you.

Then...join with the journey,

let the wind touch you and reshape you

to fit the ever changing land.

I promise...you will never be the same.

Desert Morning

High mountains witness oh so silently

in early dawns placid waiting shadows,

an eager sun rising to the East

where the new day begins unburdened.

Palm fronds bend and sway ever so gently

in the fresh budding morning breeze

and streaks of exotic vibrant color

summon a breathtaking pulsing palette

e'er to make an artist weep.

Unpretentious Saguaro Cacti

sweep the sleepy desert floor capaciously,

their arms extended in ancient greeting

as travelers hurriedly wend their way

before the desert heat scorches and rises fully.

Coyotes howl in mournful seclusion,

their cries echoing off stone walled canyons as

Geckoes preen in the shrinking dew of dawn

while another free and boundless day

ripples and flows innocently into being.

Ancient vistas beckon endlessly,

curling around each visitor's nomadic spirit

while desert winds whisper softly...sharing,

awakening the soul of all who heed.

A heavenly blue sky taunts shamelessly

on the whisking edges of desert memory saying

"Come and experience me, wandering pilgrim

and chance upon all I hold dear

for there is more for you to see

and there is more for you to know."

Gentle winds blow and echo splendidly

off cresting mountain summits there,

sometimes whirling around prodigiously

within the stone canyon walls of memory,

loud thunder announcing the event remarkably,

bringing rain so precious...so needed

to the parched scorched earth below.

Earth's music can be heard here clearly

rushing cleanly through mountain washes

and the glowing new day full of promise

reaches out and caresses each heart fully

...of every traveler who comes this way.

Cowboys

In the desert

where I walk,

I dream of days of old,

when cowboys sang

and danced and worked

to tunes so very old.

It's now a different

time and place.

Oh, woe to all who see.

Those days are gone,

spent and dead,

except...to history.

Desert Rain

At my morning window

the sun shimmers and shines,

tarrying and glimmering

in a pathway old as time.

In my corner chamber

my computer hums and croons,

summoning me to come and work

for time is passing soon.

The desert chatters,

Geckoes preen,

I watch and smile and grin.

All around me there is abundant life

and palms sway gently in the wind.

Suddenly...

ominous clouds take shape;

they spin and dance and torque.

The mountain wash is dry as dust

and rain is sure to pour.

A soft mist rises...enveloping all

from blue tiled pool walls

as the first splash occurs.

Aha! I say, it is going to rain

And then...it's all over,

and so, I sit and wait for more,

thinking...it's sure to happen soon.

A tiny voice admonishes me...

This is the desert...you fool

Desert Glory

Perfect weather

begin at dawn,

walk the land,

scan the woods,

hear Morning Doves

feed their young

before night sets down.

Empty spaces,

desert places,

mountains high

touch the sky.

Ancient treasures

can't be measured

...so I won't try.

Temples hidden

damp with showers,

loosely bound

near trees and shade

while rain falls gently

should any wish

to walk the clouds.

Clearing mist,

land replenished,

flowing streams,

inviting footpaths,

flowering Cactus,

fluttering wings

while songbirds sing.

Desert moon,

Coyotes howling,

soft winds blowing,

up-draughts flowing,

dark clouds form

and pattern new,

sure to bring heavy dew.

Snow on high peaks,

shadows linger,

this season is finished

and summer is done.

Bird's song is ending,

all past it's prime

for its Winter's time.

Desert Autumn

Desert sand and wind,

oh how they blow...while

the shadowed moon gently glows

and night colors run and eddy

in the still evening air.

Flowers bend...closing their portals

with the easy celestial shifting;

heavenly bodies re-pattern

and the hours of daylight wane

from shore...to the ocean,

from sea...back to the land.

Forest brilliance opens,

autumn's air swirls leaves into crowns,

dropping its treasure of red and gold.

Fine desert sand drifts in...for

there's no mist or rain to hold it down.

Sunset is carmine and golden,

throwing its peaceful illumination

upon the thirsty waiting ground.

Mountain pools from melted snows

reflect the supernal evening stars

shimmering in the vast heavens above.

Nature cries out in splendid song:

"Accept all I give to you

and let the darkness renew,

let the autumn winds clean,

the winter snows replenish,

the spring rains heal...and then,

I will give to you

summer flowers to perfume the air

for I am Nature,

I bring the Seasons

...I bring renewal."

Infinity

I awoke one spring morning

with stale plans and lists galore.

I saw the sleepy sun arising

as I looked to the East once more.

All around me were twisting trails

and many pathways leading somewhere,

seducing me to experience and explore.

I thought...I really must go there.

So I left my desert vistas

and climbed my mountains high.

My heart was contented when I saw

the blue of the magnificent endless sky.

No one said the climb would be easy.

Nay, never thought it would be...you see

I only needed a new way to view things,

away from the base of my own familiar tree.

I came home a changeling...and

mystified many minds to be sure.

Made no difference to me

as I planned and reached once more.

It was a time to master new beginnings

for my soul craved incessantly to be free.

I found another mountain waiting,

and so, I still believe in...Infinity.

Stormy Desert Rains

Dear stormy desert rain,

forgive me for not listening more clearly

as you opened your floodgates to renew.

It isn't because I'm ungrateful, pray tell,

for the desert spaces need

your wet kisses and generous dew.

I reproach only...for

the trees can't blossom and bear fruit

if you keep upending with fits of rain

and high winds tossing them to and fro.

Be gentle too with the spring flowers,

for they need only a nod from you.

Seed will grow, bulbs will show

and the desert cactus will bloom

without your hurling wind snapping

or deluge of rain erring fitfully by.

It's true...the land is forgiving,

yet I would beg of you

to have a more gentle...kindly

and sensitive approach

before the sun thrusts its head anew.

Just a generous kiss if you please.

The desert will thank you forevermore

and ...me, too.

The Eagle and the Oracle

In the early Southwest morning mist,

from a fetid brown smoggy cloud,

the ever alert Eagle swooped down

like a mighty formidable warrior

while shedding his tears

for the ravaged earth seen below.

Nor...had his wise eyes

missed the tainted lakes and oceans

effervescing and obscuring completely

the brilliance of the full moon

from his nightly vigil before.

He flew on to visit the Oracle

for surely he'd find an answer there.

He swooped down to the Oracle's door

and pleaded his case with a patience

he no longer felt for the world,

while the Oracle waved his hands

and lamented to the Eagle:

"What would you have me say?

For shame, they will never learn.

Their disdain will add to their name.

'Tis humans who clutter up

and foul the earth's bounty,

indeed...the firmament cries loudly

from their continuous neglect.

I see nothing changing in their future

so fly away Eagle...and do as I do

...ignore the grubby mess."

Now...the Eagle was disconsolate

with