Enter, Time

Open us from this moment

& from the next, that insistence

of hammer to anvil.  We will

each place an angel pin then,

small & gold, through the cloth above the breast,

the pocket for cigarettes, so our clasped

hearts beating shall remember

what wings are.

I do, I do, a proposal

for the acceptance of life,

the time in our veins

holding the promise

that this too shall go

& what lessons we keep

may free heavens,

angel, angel,

in our hearts, our minds. 

Bonsai Retrieved

Use this clear bag, place it in light

& gently fill the space with each twig misted,

every sprayed moss strand, the jade stand an anchor,

& that trunk once too dry crystallized now,

a poultice beneath the plastic greenhouse magic

waiting to resurrect each bud, every leaf,

to the myrrh of eastern religions, to the oxygen

of supreme green breathing paradise back

into the gift from, into the roots of

my then Peter Pan friend,

Wendy, Wendy, Wendy.

Gorgeous Orchids

are the milk of poppies lustrously deep.

In each petal fingers respire the lips of this,

the multi-folds of some living dream

shared night by night.

Enclosed in the aroma is my shut bud & yours',

yet despite all of that, climb vines,

the commonality of stems.  Crawl, grub, 

stumble & fly occasionally through whole orchards

of detail.

Mouths of eyes seize us filled with breathtaking light

& "OK" that photosynthesized motion says

to its own sojourn, "I will save my house, 

make it a green home."

Yes, whether or not you acknowledge that

our solo growth goes on as reflective,

the self-search successful, combined in the lost space

of stars mirroring these petal's tides.