★ CLOUDS STARE ★
Clouds stare like canopies
waiting to be seen.
Sending roily scents to tree skeletons,
water vapor lips
pluck at bitter limbs.
Limbs curl
into miniature snails
unfurling like thoughts;
waters plunge
a moat into the grass -
slithering,
a scrawny surface
weeping.
No, the rain has
not yet decayed.
★ THOUGHTS ON INSPIRATION ★
Inspiration is an inner child
running in a field of bamboo trees
and Shinto shrines,
wondering how to align
her chakras with the singing
of the spheres.
Inspiration is a broken psyche
scattered on the sidewalk
as worn-out leaves,
trying to stop itself from
becoming a self-avowed nihilist,
before the sun blows up.
Inspiration is nature painting
the afternoon a navy blue
as daylight curls into a ball
on spacetime's couch,
waking up yin and yang
in the dendrites of the trees.
Inspiration is neither here
nor there, but rather a state
of being within and of itself,
enriching the lives of those
who seek solace in creation,
bearing the wonders of its fruit.
