becoming Beauty



Becoming Beauty

face up floating

in a sea of glass


Beauty lies below me

 in the elemental caprice of

sunlit patterns reflecting sky


Beauty circles above me

in clouds collecting salted tears

We all become the ocean when it rains


Beauty walks behind me

with gravity leaving footprints

Its strength the shifting sands


The wind of Beauty

blows quietly within me

ever seeking itself without measure



The source of this gorgeous photo is unknown


Beauty waits



There is nothing ambiguous about loss

it fills the spaces left behind

a tenderness that registers the slightest wind

so vulnerable it stops breath from breathing

in sudden recognition of how hard it is

to fill space when empty

waking each day turned inside out


There is nothing ambiguous about loss

That sharp clacking of stone upon stone

leaving a path of shards

the hidden gravity that shades the color blue

Where memory seems more than skin

translucent but barnacled…

a legacy of the light of dead stars


There is nothing ambiguous about loss

it separates the cut edges

opening abrasions with graveled hands

where hearing is more sensitive than sight

as music evokes both acid and balm

and the heaviness of dreaming

is carried in weary flesh


There is nothing ambiguous about loss

I am ever present in its deep grain

comprising the growth rings

through which side branches grow

I have become something other than I was

something less something more

while separated from beauty


This seemingly inexhaustible thirst

redeemed in the breath of wildness

each inhalation responding

each exhalation my wordless prayer

In animal distress

I bend low at the stream

Silent, listening…. I drink


Photo credit: