East air sighs
West
words
that she is Berkeley's daughter now
a splashing, rising light
against blue, fuscia nights.

Meanwhile this Mother
sits
Earth Bound
in Massachusetts,
yet not bitter
(like drinking wine alone).

Together once,
we inhaled
night skies,
gulped moonlight,
painted moments,
searched rock faces
with no regrets
we knew
(with certainty)
that we were
never above art.


But these mothers'
limbs grew roots,
as daughter, "Swan" a rose
out from her
frantic birth waters
and into visions
virtues first
dawning on other faces….

****

Once
my children demanded juice
with infantile bellows
leapfrogged in bright fields,
ran hand in hand,
Game Child and his Sister, Peace

They left

the earthen soil outside
and entered laughing
as we cleaned lake fish,
ate melon,
bought chocolate
then bubble-castled,
singing Spring refrains

they pajammad,
devouring poetry,
then thanked the sun
nestling down
we prayed to first firefly stars.

I meditated, they slept,
rocked softly amidst
gentle dream-streams
they reconciled glass secrets,
incubated gentle thought gardens
that produced thousands
of morning roses
by sunwarmth
as a rapidly receding
gold and purple horizon
~

Alone now,
I must let
dark moments pass...

having thrashed against
an Alaskan night;
loving them More
than Time's Greed.


awakened by a mirror universe,
i was wishing I walk
past the silence to break

as daughter and son dreamt
my dearest deers,
my fawn, my frog boy,
my Swan at Dawn
OH Why?

But I won’t defile the past songs
any more; only
want essential things,
to witness Virtue Dawn
once more on he
who would perhaps need
more sparrows at dusk,
less craving to look
again to hear
but say naught
but float or row
amongst rain- pond
blossoms
in buzzing reeds
give up all the Ghosts
and Share Love
Oh give up ghosts; share love!


2.
Only vast indigo longing
remains, windy fog passing
water falls, green translucent
memories
day-frogs prance at wee wings


alone and freed from
a marriage uptight
as bad candy,
I’ve danced an autumn
voodoo universe
awake walked beyond
edges, past babies into
whisper wooded paths,
and with the moon
my younger selves raced
cross fields and continents

and
where I could not go,
my children went without me.

3.
daughter Swan dances
'mongst moon glows,
an airborn leaf,
She holds gently the arm
of life over there

but Oh to have
her waking softly
into my home,
this stretched cord
invisibe, palpable,
now, on her birth-round twenty
eight.

This Time is a Dragon
with tail wrapped round me
I'm unable to float
over vast blue
this longing,
or without
regrets, against
times' thefts

to work the colors,
that create and separates
blue sky rising
mist from birth waters,
and shimmer
ashore shivering
clothed only in whites and golds