He sang my pulse a metronome



I once took a lover

Substantial as the undertow

He sang…

He sang my pulse a metronome

As mermaids surfaced mesmerized


He showed me between his strong legs

Thick hairs, long soaked in the moon

Permeated with his strength and compassion


To love and be loved is evermore

His words becoming the flesh of dreams

I moved like seaweed in his tides

Undulate and grounded

Melding with the cello of his landing


Compelled, the spirits

Shuffling wistfully in dust

Remembered their names

Became eager for color

Incanted lullabies

Spellbound by our heat

As it rose to claim them


Proud, my body animal

Went to ground bearing seed

I became witness and thunder

Rounded and swelling in storms

Unfolding broad wings bearing rain

A haloed tunnel of bone and cusp


All forgotten in the first cry of birthing

As in this moment my world split in two

And continued to divide into ocean and land

Both realms indigenous to the lost souls of Man.


Artist:  “Whispers” Monique Passicot


Rites of passage


The moon is a pale sliver

of the bloody morning sky

I feel the wistful spirits peering

from behind its silver skirt

               yearning for color         giving themselves names

whispering to be heard


please touch me Jesus

I need to know the surrender

of a compassionate man

before my proud body animal

births this new flesh



sunrise moon



photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jdub1980/8366582629/”</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;