From Oakland to Los Angeles:

Through-the-window landscapes of Southern California, along Interstate 5

        Book

        When I open Your BOOK,
        it changes the weather,
        the mood, the light, the
        smells and aromas of life:
        Sounds and things in touch, 
        Things out of touch,
        things within circles or
        Spectres in shadows.
        Appetites, memories, mirrors,
        and Hallways into tomorrow.
        The instance of birth;
        The exact moment of death;
        And all the journeys in between.
        life becomes LIFE
        when
        I open The Book.

Hyperbolic Circus, Avery Falkner, 2017
http://www.averyfalkner.net

The music of life
Flutters, giggles,
Roamulates, undulates,
Ping pong spheres in the all-day sandbox;
Clear-water teardrops on an afternoon brick;
White-dot mini-pearls, anywhere and everywhere she goes.
The shadow proves the sunlight, he said.


Two Waves

One wave slides across the shoreline,
and heaves up onto the sand
Carrying with it
Seaweed, barnacles, dark debris,
Oceanic refuse and
Humanity's litterness...
Trash, oil spill, repugnance,
Filth.
This sad, infected wave
Slides back into the greater waters,
Leaving its upheaval deposited.

One wave crashes past the shoreline,
Glittering, sizzling, shimmering,
Dappled with zest-mist
Golden with sunshine,
Alive with glimmers of
Breathing and dreaming and laughter.
And this wave
Remains.


Demons clawed my throat
across the night but their
Destruction was sabotaged by
A gentle hand, a silken
Voice, a starry wind, a
Gesture, heavenly, eternal:
I AM.
And so,
you are,
and so, climbing, coughing,
Be still.
Rest warm.
Sing strong:
Today is ablaze with tomorrows.


Good Morning, Ruth

The angels are here
The sun is rising
You are robed in living light.
Welcome to Paradise.

Don't look back, Ruth,
Remember He cares for
Everyone you care about.
Your sweet ones -- we dissolve
into His loving earthly care.

Welcome Home, Ruth.
The arms that gave you to us
are the arms that swept you from us
and the arms that now
hold you and now
glide you into glory.

I see a dove, soaring into
blue and cloudless skies.
Good morning, Ruth.

(for Ruth Struble)


This

What's it like
to have this
great big wonderful beautiful
magnificent gigantical
four-squarish city-sized
glittering glamorous
gargantuan all-powerful
unbreakable over-arching
all-infusing ever-expanding
completely invisible
incredibly sophisticated
intricate and articulated
unknown and well-known and
utterly un-utterable yet
scripturally disclosed and
baby-like ensimplified,
bastian and battalion-cheering
daily-dosed and data-blasting
altogether God-exalting
DESTINY
living breathing dancing floating
over your head every day
and everywhere you go?