Pudgy Indian

A bug attempted to crawl up the screen
as I sat to write these words.
His left legs were reaching,
looking for a grip.
And then it fell to the table,
scrambled on its back,
fell onto the keyboard table,
and after what seemed like a fairly long recovery period for a bug,
it walked off.

As I start to transcribe
the hand written pages to the blog,
the bug reappears on my left hand
as I type away
and laugh.
He crawls to the tip of my middle finger.
I tried to put him on top of the monitor,
he refused to de-board the plane.
I tried bouncing him off to no avail.
Laughter erupts from my soul.
"I thought that's where you wanted to go, buddy,"
I laugh.
"So, where do you want to go?"
He flies from my middle finger
and onto the grey plastic
casing surrounding the monitor,
and crawls to the top
on his own.
OK, OK, OK...
I get it now.

Life is different yet again.
Rain falls gently on the earth
wet, moist, goodness
I sit on the back deck
by myself.
Just out of the rain...
and listen.

The snow is melting
had a good snow ball fight with Felicia
Took her on a ceremony
another step
a journey
a completion...?
She takes her paces,
listens to instruction,
falls once on the way there
Once on the way back.
Ice hidden by snow.

As it first started to snow,
Felicia and I sat on a swinging chair
in the back yard.
From time to time
in our lives
their comes those special moments.
Those moments of great indescribable beauty
Snow on the hills
touching the grass
the limbs of the trees
our faces and hands
sharing the moment with my daughter.
The beauty.
The beauty.
There are times
when poets don't have to right words
to describe a poem that happens right before their very eyes.
Yeah...you know what I mean
We've all had them.

Felicia has told me she is a Christian.
Although I will never be a Christian,
I wonder if she'll be able
to cling to it
when change comes to visit?
I'll be there
should she remain
Or move.

Peppery, Cinnamon, Partagas #4 robusto...BABY!
I can still smell the wonder on my fingers!
mmmmmmmmmmmmm
I sit on the back deck
smoke
listen ot the rain
trees silhouetted in gray cloudy twilight
I marvel being alone
here
watch...
watch...
the raindrops splash
on the wet deck
with its dark stain
it dances with the light
water, tree, light, energy, birth
slush snow
near the corner.
Listen to the raindrops.

A poets ceremony
reflections
cleansing with smoke
outside
writing on water
smoking on wood
...hey,
is there room in here
to write about how cold
my ass is getting?

A poets ceremony
I thought I had no words today.
The broom was used
to sweep the mess
from the doorway
during the ceremony
by the little girl
who displays an understanding.
She sees something.

Inside the frame of the tipi
while the snow is still fresh
I look up and remember.

A poets ceremony
on a back deck
in a house
in the country
listens to rain
cleansed his soul
with water and smoke smoke smoke
it's twilights journey into darkness
and I am starting to feel
a different calendar,
a different clock.

Friends!
Cynthia has been here,
I can see her now
smiling laughing telling jokes
stories life children fun
beauty adventures teachings
ceremonies herbs relationships.
Julie
blue hair on the back deck
talking news politics
love relationships
nature listening
clouds trees silence
I could see her journey around the place
and telling me what she saw.
Leigh Anne would lean against the wall
listen talk about life ask questions
sister I'm writing in almost darkness
let's have some chocolate smoke walk and talk.
Ani...
Ani would do ceremony
even if I didn't see her do it.
A reading in the living room
A journey to the trees
find some sap maybe?
Jim would talk politics
smoke eat laugh tell jokes
walk be silent listen
and find the sacred

Outdoor kitty
has joined me,
a manifesttion
a point of reference
many blessing to my friends.
I ask him questions.
"Where did you come from?"
"You were an indoor kitty I can tell."
"Did you get lost?"
"Where you tossed out?"
"You seem like a good hunter?"
"Are you safe out there?"
"Things are much different for you now than they were, huh?"
"You seem to be bearing the cold ok. Is it tough?"
Although he didn't answer my questions,
at least not that I understood,
he eventually took his leave from me
as something more important
caught his attention.

Hello world
here by myself...
wait...
here with smoke
rain
and you.

If you were here
now
with me
would we hold each other
kiss
roll on the bed
on the floor
on the couch
in the kitchen.
Would we tell jokes and stories
read poetry and books
cleanse in smoke
make love until recharged
have dinner
watch a movie
and recharge some more.
Are you my imaginary lover
or my real lover imagined?

My cigar,
turned in the right direction,
looks like a devil
smiling fire.
Spirits have a sense of humor.