He climbs the cliff side clinging to
roots and rocks and I too
ascend with
solitary faith
beside me, he a few steps
above, sitting
on the ledge
waiting, to build me a mansion
of tent sized
proportions
above us the pines
shine.

There is no time beyond this spell
as dirt cakes my hands, buries
beneath my nails,
all is
wet in this forest of rain
clouds draping
everything blue
and green, moss
springing back from the
momentary footfall.

I am lost
without
superb concentration
the give and take of
the coming
then retreating tide,
the cool damp
earth beneath me
that sense of
destiny returning.

Inside the winds, the water
ripples, dipping
into the light
light dream, that is,
life-
this life, I call my own
nothing more than
a moment-
fortune’s hand on my
muddy thighs
I will feel it instantly
inside me, churning
the waters of the effervescent
dream.