Drifting Howls

To preface: rain finally came to Colorado…

English: rain

*Not* our storm, but you get the gist. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Drifting Howls

Featherlight and arrow tight

a clear cascade to scour light,

it downs the earth through flashes bright

and ends in walls to steal the sight.

A crackle, night, beckoned at the howl

while men descend into the bowl

and the old bark, it bends to growl,

swirled in blacktop mirror, like sinking fowl.

Yet there ride the drifting fires,

a four-wheeled beast to scatter its own pyres

drifting to the wake the Blue Wolf sires–

a thunder on the mountain, drifting ever higher.


Elemental Elation

Bear me up

Rustling cavalcade of coalescing

Music rush, on tempo speed

These breaths across my skin.

The harmony

Of your exultation

Gives me strength

Beneath my wings.

Crystal flow

Caress and coax

The resolution of my being,

Dive down into the deep.

Crash upon

The shores of apathy

And stir upon us yet the storms

That break inequity.


Quivering motions elate

To find the kiss, the touch of motion

In the sensuous sway of your dance.

No hands

Could ever hold thy hips

This beat, thunder of thy solitary

Moment, unbidden.


Rampart revelry of life

Shield yet the passions of hope,

A dream of majesty.


Mother-being enfold

The world in thy being:

Ground this flighty soul.

* For the latest Monday Poetry Potluck!

Pressure before Storm

There is a tingle on the wind

Like thunder in my skin

The air breathes

And the light quakes—

Shivers, breaks—

Such force is this!

This sudden heat,

This fireless heat

That beckons from the clouds.

The world elates to hear

The fury of its passing.