Black basalt
was once molten
flowing fire
that scorched earth
before firming to bedrock
foundation the river carved
until people saw
a bowl and pitcher
Water pulls at the old soul part of me
rolling sweeping flowing
rivers call out
if I wade, I become another rock
or felled limb
the water goes around
Rock sings
beyond our frequency
we know because
ground stones
turned in blower’s hands
fuse glass that rings
I am drawn to the ground
that nourishes plants
and lulled by rhythmic water
powerful persistence
beneath its slip sliding ways
First, though, was fire
then the cold air
cooling into life
I.
The horizon
a line of light
with sun poured
onto water dispersing.
Oval glimmers tip waves
shimmer toward shore
riding in the tide
as if flashing out a message.
II.
From lookout wet rock top
light line draws the horizon into being
separates sky from sea
pours like white ink
flashes bob across wave peaks
shimmer toward shore
most capsize as the tide arrives
but the few remaining
flicker their bright message
as ocean’s fireflies.
Pine needles fall
Wind divining lottery sticks
breezy prayers
pitch incense self purifies
turns, tosses the needles
for answers
dozens scattered to the winds
a failed attempt
even when one floats down alone
two leaves follow
curled edges up
Deities flat out laugh
into the Wind
