Wake-up Call

On the move
spot to spot,
gone noon
or higher,

hearing the heaven
breathe in my ear,
bound for the quick path,
point to point,

but yellow heat smoking,
staining my eyes,
melting the way,

the red splash
rafting
through tunnels and branches,
bathing tissues and brain cells,

calling my name,
singing the praises
hot blood
does sing

Carried on the Wind

The wind never thinks

about rhythm,

just comes and blows

and hunts, maybe,

for a little wet

to wick away

The moist of it

wraps me in eddies

and sweet caresses

I pick through the folds

seeking surprises,

lightweight gifts

of quick chills,

the scent of mystery ahead,

the new world

blowing in

Who I Would

I believe that who I am is who I would
regardless of what others think of me
and when I wish to know
what it is I have to give 
for life and love
and who will
live beyond
this day
I am OK
that all I love
are who they are
and will be who they be