Webs

Transparent webs of our own devising
hold fast through all our struggles.
We fight our final destination ---
that which we need ---
gossamar strands of steel.
Doubts like spiderwebs
Enmesh us; entangle us ---
sticky threads in our lives.
If only we could see
that these are the steel girders
we can safely build on.

Wildness

The winds are rising
     clouds scudding before the moon;
My spirit springs to air
     like a falcon from the wrist
Beating upward
     into wild darkness;
Fey freedom unleashed.

High Plains Drifter

You slouch against my fence post,
     your demeanor withdrawn.
You seem to scorn closeness;
     everything about you is dry and spiny...
And yet, when you catch hold
     you refuse to let go.


At last you lift yourself
     away from my fence post;
I watch as you move down the road,
     immediately merry.
Over the fields and through the yucca
     you stumble, suddenly the clown.
Nature's own high plains drifter,
     tumbleweed.

Within

It's said
Demons ride
the long hallways,
coursing
screeching fingernails
through minds
they find there.
Death's shadow lingers
they say;
the stench is in
the mind's eye.
No evil is there
that doesn't hide
beauty within.

Maelstrom

Thunder-soft beneath
     my knees;
my mount, the night.
I leave...
     driven by innerness;
Seeking that quiet
     place
where all is silence;
     the steed no longer
     straining,
     pulling at the bit.
Softly we stalk
     through welcome
     darkness;
Wind in our manes
     calmness at last entering,
     subduing for a time
the Wildness.

     It is enough:
     I go home.

Quadrad

Windrunner:
     Your long clean limbs
     soar over the ground,
     the power of your stride
     is the fiercest delight.

Starflyer:
     You glow in the sunlight
     strong burnished bronze,
     glittering fragments of fantasy
     echoed in reality's plan.

Earthdancer:
     Hooves planted deeply
     in darl warming loam,
     wisdom heavy and light
     stirs under slow movement.

Seaskimmer:
     Laughter shakes off you
     like drops in the rain,
     teasing those around you
     as you shift joy and pain.

Bridled

The mare dipped her head,
     untaught, thinking she
     should accept the golden bit
     and gem-studded headstall.
Her legs trembled, her mane,
     unsettled, was tossed and yet
     she stood her ground and
     bent herself to the others' will.
Was this not as it should be?

Constrained, movement stilted,
     once graceful, now the bit forcing her
     mouth open, a silent scream,
     blood flecking the snow.
The mare dipped her head,
     still bending to the will.
     scent of water, before her
     a mirror.

Rearing, breaking the hold of hands grasping the reins
Dancing, twisting in air, defending her self
Galloping, hands gone but the bit remains
Pawing, a hoof delicately catching on headstall gems
Shaking, a dead snake, the bridle slithers to the ground
          --- gold to brass, gems to glass ---

The unicorn flings up her head
     glowing, windrunner reborn
     leaping, flying into the caressing
     scents of the desert spring.