mystery flower

I have no idea what it is! (But I did meet it face to face in the Conservatory)

papaya

when I saw you
laid open to the air

I never asked
who had cut you
or with what instrument

I knew
that you were ready
to let go those glowing
dark seeds
out of your belly

gently, with caution

and when I saw you stranded
on the sand
sweet abalone mouth
away from water

I didn't ask
how your scent
would melt into my fingertips

or how the sound of palm trees
would sigh inside
my breath

peony in white

joy, said the firefly

I planned
for my wings
to pull the air across
your face

just like this

and for
my small flicker of flame
to scorch
for a second
the cloth of your darkness

just like this

and for you
to rise along my
dotted line of lights

above the night's curtain
just like this

surprised you
didn't I


This post (although it's about a firefly) is dedicated to Michael Jackson, who defies gravity, now and forever!

sea-lion drinking

sundown

leave your collar of fire
on the horizon

take off your shoes
come barefoot
into my world

roll here
to me
on the fading grass

while your last thoughts
flicker above us
soft, on the bellies
of clouds

shadows grow
in hollows

reaching out to you
touching the red embers
of your skin

roll down into the ocean
of my arms

eyes closed
incognito
being of light

peony close-up

even closer if you click on it!

faces

one
of your faces
opens

like a flower, to
the sound
of water

that races
madly over cliffs, after a shower

one of your faces
is shut
and reflects the moon

you say you would rather
the rain did not ruffle your petals

you have had quite enough
of seasons

see, how well you have hardened
your rippled skin
into stone

one of your faces
speaks to me, in the way of weather
fierce and cold

one of your selves
is scattered
in my fingers, fragrant
and falling

bearded iris

behind your eyes

I notice
that the sun
forgot to set

in that world
that glows
behind your eyes

there, where the snowy egret
still flies

why on earth should it ever land
while its wings
are still draped in golden light

and the sand so smooth
under its flight

and why
should this creaking world
even think
of turning

or the twilight think of falling

while love still
leans over
whispering
to its own heart

and I and the day
still hold up the night
for a moment

while those crazy stars
try to rise

here, in the world I find
behind your eyes

2 monkeys

I don't know exactly what these are called--if anyone knows, tell me!
(I found out they are called Langurs)

was it you

tell me the truth
was it you
who sent this hummingbird

that teases me into your world
of lilacs
and sky

did you put that white wisteria
in my path
to undo my breath

or this
alarming sudden swirl
of mockingbird's wings

tell me, was it you
who engineered me
to break apart

like a dry crust of soil
at the touch
of someone's heart

see, you have shattered
the skin of my soul

finally

with the sharp
ache
of beauty
in a mockingbird's song

with your warm wind
drifting around my shoulders

and this swift, obsessive
airborne speck

getting tipsy
on lilacs and sky

weeping cherry

royalty

you, my dear
are royalty

even on days like this
when your heart
is hollow

your soul still spreads
golden and glowing
across the fields

on days like this
the grass must still bow down

the world
kneels at your feet
as its sun
passes

moving
these simple blades and stalks
under the caress
of your eyes

as if blessed