snow melts in cold rain
gusts bend trees
lifetime here doing inventory of being
this tool of reflection sustains intent
art as practice with byproducts no concern
what becomes seed from maple root
some & spout psyche gladdened thru trust
where I am testing rewards invent your own
nourish roots true voice that speaks
the path beneath your feet
the singular path …
quiescent days
waning light
grave moments
weighing feathers
and stones
of judgment
doubt not
nor gently go
to that dark chamber
wherein lies
granite awareness
annihilating kiss
immeasurable
all matters equally
silence mayhem
quick and still
mind cannot grasp
cannot command
a hammer helps
chipping happily
as lichen feast
paint dries
Venus bright at
dawn
signals
light dissolved in light
above the human mire
and life
how little we really
need
less
much less
much more
Artfarm is the work
the field is myself
true
to tell whereof the world has led me
among streams and trees
mountains and oceans
multiplicity of forms voices and colors harmonic
spending breath getting rich
in metaphysics
fields of grass
urge to know be one
with all i see
feel exult and rejoice
be glad & shit
keeping it real
the backpack of time’s wicked chariot
whirling spokes and mayhem
resplendent and awful
visual Mozart raga
cyclopaean monolith
where fingers walk and conjure
capital
all this and more
but turn this stone to bread
sets you free
presto bingo
despite the rhymes of Milton
driven shiftless forge ahead
find the way
that bell of recognition
nothing to forgive
forget where
now brightens stately flashing
drop regret sad leaves falling
colors fading melancholic sloughs
Begone
Now begin anew
savour light sweeping Auster
blooms teeming earth
stirs leaves of grass
among snowdrops and brambles
fresh pains and crochets
soothed by peepers and fireflies
more ahead
good prolificity and plenty
these are not objects
shieldstools of power
exercised in useless pursuits
nevertheless necessary as angels
faerie feeds me
tree that i am no program
root in earth turn to light
persevere and
do not doubt
no atom despised
all matters equally
nothing really matters
demands imagination
fulfilled
voice enacted
oblique and true
only way out is through
nolo contendere
yet I do with inertia
two steps three steps
at a time
gravity wins in the end
sparks fly
stars sweeten the infinite
above and below
brilliant perceptioins
temper the mind walls
open doors
coffin thoughts flee
morning
the peignoir
the fruit
& daily news with coffee
the poem beyond me
beckons bestows
random gifts
nutriments glad
and sober
I cannot make art
no one can
Art is not a thing
made
or thought
that force by which the
thing made
or thought
finds expression
I know less and less
and less suffices
more is surfeit
Instead of all the things
I used to do I do
the things alone
that move me
bred in the bone
No game plan but
to be in the game
by my own rules
I discover by
seeing what I do
knowing later
My speech is sculpture
Reflecting struggles with myself ... it is complex
Who can say such complexity is good
When the simple
is beloved by all?
Attaining simplicity is complex
So I struggle
It is my life I so live
Fussing with my pipe
This January afternoon
I live my ideal as I can
So doing I must ask
Is it good to aspire
To be grass
Red oak
Flaming maple
Or Douglas fir
A shining moment in the air?
The stream sings its
Rushing passage fast
Then slow at last in
Ocean’s heaving seas.
Believing less in answers
I handle many tools
In fields deep with choice
Winnowed through time
Through repetition
Many paths through the bush
Meet ,converge, and move towards one
[intuited]
The same directions
Edited by experience
It is too much to ask
Of words that they
Assemble themselves into meaning.
We make our meaning
In every act and stroke
In what we hold close
And keep away
Too much for me to know
Like moss or mountain asphodel
The forest trillium
Persevering trusting hoping
Singing speaking shaping