I feel vincible

I feel vincible this morning

waves crash

my heart and breath come quicker

then I remember

or am reminded

that I am a tiger

a star in the night

whose light never dies

then I remember

that I am a tiger

From the star the finger pointed

From the star the finger pointed.

Light or lightning leapt the chasm and new life sparked to heartbeat. Energy in the bellied seed became the sapling, the desert oak which stands upon red-sanded rock. Branches spread in shelter, night air now rests soft.

Journeys, arrivals, tables overturned.

And so the life of ever begins, a star, and finger pointing.


The god cast a handful of seed silver-swirling across the night sky. And then they were the net of stars that catch our breath, our thoughts, our dreams, and leave us sleepless for wonder of the darkness beyond them. 

The moon kisses the sea

The old man told me: Night after night the moon kisses the sea to hide her pale loneliness. Then, from behind the thinning clouds, the stars appear. Several fall and disappear, but if you watch closely, one, always one, flies across the face of the moon. She turns her head and a night breeze rises, follows the star and he rides the night wind with the moon. For a night at least he is hers and she his. And that is what you must live for.