we sing new stories

we sing new stories
(far from holy books)
by mountain peaks or
shining brooks
we breathe ourselves
between the pages
gone the cages of
un-holy systems
no more the victims of
another's vision
we have inner sight
brightly glowing with
an earthly light

we sing new heroes 

from all peoples for

all people 

by Earth and love the 

heavens shining in

our eyes 

our cries the 

howling winds 

our tears the oceans 

feel the motion of 

our bodies the 

living spin of stars 

so far from old 

beginnings 

within and with each other 

singing 

new stories

Among the Multitude

Among the men and women the multitude,
I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs,
Acknowledging none else, not parent, wife, husband, brother,
child, any nearer than I am,
Some are baffled, but that one is not—that one knows me.

Ah lover and perfect equal,
I meant that you should discover me so by faint indirections,
And I when I meet you mean to discover you by the like in you.

-Whitman

when did you cease

when did you cease
the passage through
this shadowland and
to our forest home?
hand in hand upon the
fen and moor
no more the fiery hearth
to warm our night-graced
flesh, still cool from
starry air
with care our loving words
beneath the heaven's stair
fingers through your
gleaming hair
til words failed the
lover's lips
you said you burned
for me
and I believed the
shape your mouth made
afraid to miss
a single part
when did the
ceasing start?

The Way

they sing

they sing
celestial harmonies
but i see a single light
a single sight
so far away
it barely touches my
wondering gaze
away with
cacophonic chorus
the steady eye of
Horus watches its
priestly servants
within the
silent hall
now raising songs
beneath the dimmer
light
a sacred sight
still forms the
blessed call

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