Mt. Vision Revisited

There is a land in my soul

Shaped and formed by the tides of my emotions

A place of dreams it is

Wonderfully magical

Alight with the spirit of my being

The gentle rolling of the ocean is my laughter

The breeze, a deep sigh

The clouds, a moment’s contemplation

The suns, my ever constant Truth

Yet somewhere in this peaceful realm

On the dark side of a lonely hill

Lies a shadowed place of unpleasant depths

Where secrets dance ‘tween ancient trees

Then are lost in shadow’s impenetrable dark

Where deathly silence then reigns

Until with a cry of guilt it is shattered

Then awake sometimes to find Myself

Wandering like whispers in the darkness

Tears fall like torrential rain

This sorrowful shower of shame

Leaves me shivering in the cold

Until a shining light pierces

The tangled twisting trees of doubt

To lead me back to my place of dreams

And warm me on this journey

So I stand upon my hill

Looking out over all I deeply  love

A single tear of joy leaves my eye

As the blessing takes my heart


Mt. Vision, Inverness, CA – December 23 1998

Nothing To Nothing

whispering man

We begin as nothing


But can grow into Kings


Or crawl deep in ourself


And become nothing again


This is your life

Could it be stranger

A misfits delight

You’ll fit right in

Don’t you worry

Ignore the dangers

But remember here

The point’s to win


As the years

Pave the road to sorrows

Your fears

Buried under lies

Steal what you can

Keep all you borrow

And feel the walls

Crumble in on paradise


For we begin as nothing


But can grow into Kings


Or crawl deep in ourself


And become nothing again


As you tie rope

To hang all your dreams

Die of hope

And desperation

Death an escape

Now it seems

From mindless madness

And frustration


So don’t lead your soul

To the gallows

Don’t leave your soul

To be damned

Beware the cold

Beware shadows

And beware

The red-eyed

Whispering man


The red-eyed

Whispering man


The red-eyed

Whispering man


You know we begin as nothing


But can grow into Kings


Or crawl deep in ourself


And become








The Universe Engineer


 The World of My Imagination’s Photo-Prompt Flash Fiction Challenge.

Submissions must be 500 words or less,  and feature the picture and all five words: Spider, Race, Machine, Muscle, & Engineer.

My submission…



In the night the giant, ungainly spider moves.  On malformed legs propelled through dense forest slow.  Rustle of living leaves above.  Crackling of the dead below.

Whisper of westerly wind.  A soft earthly sigh.  With deliberate strides it journeys under branch, leaf, and vine that hides the moon and sky.

A second accursed of spider race now strides abreast the first in midnight’s dark.  Third and fourth shambling arachnids join in time.  As hidden moon ends celestial arc.

Misshapen, mutant spiders all.  A hundred years through forest nights they tramp.  Canopy above shakes from passing.  Leaves fall in darkness like dying bats.

Three younger, less warped walkers find first four at pre-dawn’s hour.  Smaller these be.  Lighter of leg.  Yet, command not the old ones’ power.

Truth revealed in morning’s light.  Sun breaches forest canopy.   No spiders things these walkers.  The legs are roots.  The dark hid trunks of ancient Dryad trees.

These Dryads, this mystic race, a pool they find that Eternal glistens.  Roots bring them near water’s edge.  Silent.  Still. With leaf and branch, bark and gnarl they listen.

The heat, light, and life.  First day’s sun rays calm waters feel.  Then shimmer.  Now hum.  As the Great Machine, with primal gears, turns the cosmic wheel.

Brilliant beam of pure white radiance.  From Void, through space, then stratosphere.  To center of the Eternal pool.  Upon this rides the Engineer.

She, He, It is all things.  Dryads bow.  Leaves in reverence rustle.  A seeming apparition, this Engineer, save, its living, loving, laboring heart of mortal muscle.

Heartbeats of the world.  Of rocks , of trees, of languid pools, sun rays, and moon beams.   Its thump-thump the spinning of the earth, the boiling core’s hum, the harmonic of the great Machine.

Yet, with each beat mortal muscle withers.  Life bleeds from the Engineer.  All Her, His, Its love given unto death.  Sap drips from bark and bow.  Ancient Dryad tears.

Night couples again with day.  Waters caressed by Sun’s last fingers of flame.  Silent now the Engineer’s heart.  He, She, It forever fades.

Return from whence they walked “crippled spiders” do.  A solemn tree upon each back. Engineer’s gifted love felt as ground meets stepping root.  All hundred years upon the track.

A millennium of hourglass sands fall.  Alas!  A call Dryads again hear.  Summoning their race to witness as they have all time.  The Machine of the Cosmos, the Lover of all Things, the Universe Engineer.


Word Count – 407




Goddess’ Eyes


Dark blue night

Points of light

Dead tree silhouette

Against the sky


Blood and birth

Pain then life

Smile of the Goddess

In a mother’s eyes


I see the magic in your eyes

I see something tragic in your eyes


Bright sun rays

Newborn’s face

Become now Self

For finite days


Life and loss

Loved ones die

Shade of the Goddess

In a widow’s eyes


I see the magic in your eyes

I see something tragic in your eyes


Guilt like Hell

Death of Self

Buried in the Void

Where souls once dwelt


Return alive

A truth realized

Gift of the Goddess

In Enlightened eyes


I see the magic in your eyes

I see something tragic in your eyes


I see the magic


I see the tragic


In the Goddess’ Eyes




Mother Earth

Mother Earth

Oh Mother Earth

I’m going down

A warm breeze

Dries my eyes

So I might see

The stars


And glistening

In the sky


And when I feel this way

Don’t leave my side

Don’t turn away

Hold my hand

And keep me

From being


Of the



The bitter frost

Of endless space

No I cannot bare

To face it


Oh Mother Earth

I’m going down

And when I leave my friends

The ones I love

Will I ever

Know them again

Or will I understand

Their tenderness

Their loveliness


And when I feel this way

Hold me close to your bosom

And set me down to lay

Forever and



Press your body into mine

As if your soul

Could enter



Am I to lie here


Alone in death


For I could cry

A million tears

For a single day

Or a thousand years

Without my



Oh Mother Earth

I’m going down

And soon the sun will set

I will forget

All is silent

And I cry








Love to Steve Wolf who wrote the original version of this song, but I cannot, for all the years passed, remember it but as an inspiration.  I love you, Brother, and miss you.

I know


I know it feels

Like your drowning

The cold and fear

You’re sinking down in


A last breath

Pray for guidance

Embrace death

Lay in silence


I know the pain

Of this passing

There’re no answers

To what you’re asking


There’s only Void

What’s beyond

Let go of all

Fear holds on


I know it’s hard

Your Ego dying

It cannot serve

The enlightened


So say goodbye

This is your moment

End your Self

End your torment


I am Void

Am nothing

No nothing


Only consciousness 

To create



What sublime




I know it feels

Like Heaven

But it’s just being

In the moment


You can touch

All that you feel

What were dreams

You now make real


I know it seems

Like freedom

Yet many souls

Fall prey to demons


Sisters, brothers

Hopeless, wandering

Lost forever

Without your suffering


I know it feels

Like your drowning

Knowing fear of Hell

You must go down in


A final test

There is no guidance

Thier souls for yours

Eternal Silence






burn baby

Unrepentant he glares.  His undisguised anger boiling, seeping.  He points with a finger of his mind, and he accuses.

“Your crimes are too great, too heinous for you to dare to counter so,” I declare.

His defiance lessens none.  His stare remains spiteful.

I turn to the jury—these fine twelve clones of justice—and all give a slow, and solemn nod.

“Your Honor,” I address the Judge, “the accused here before you, as you can well see, offers no admission, no remorse.  No, your Honor; not even a single tear has he shed for his terrible trespasses.”  Now it is my finger that extends, seemingly of its own accord, and finds its way to point at the Accused.

The Judge, looking much like the Jury, closes his eyes, and offers me, and all those bearing witness, the same slow nod of understanding.  He is guilty, it says. Proceed.  And so I do.

“The charges are as follows, your Honor, and esteemed members of the Jury…”

I clear my throat.  The accused snickers.

“He who stands shackled before you, my dear peers, has many crimes; any of which singularly uttered, and convicted of, would damn him.  So let us not toil, brothers, with a lengthy oration of the Accused’s many felonies against us.  Instead, let me bring to light but one … Treason!”

The Jurors look to one another, shock unhidden from expressions.  Further away, in the deep dark, the Witnesses murmur amongst themselves, their many voices a hum, a beehive of a thousand androgynous clones.

A wry smile curls at the corner of the Defendant’s mouth.

“Yes, Treason,” I continue, “against a hundred years of meticulous tradition, against—dare I say?—Family!”

The courtroom explodes in an uproar.  Shouts fly, spittle sailing close behind.  Twelve Jurors’ fingers point, untold others from the shadows thrust their digits at the Accused, and, more importantly, the Judge himself stands, and points with his oaken gavel.

“Guilty!” he declares.

“Guilty!” follows the Jurors’ chorus.

“Guilty!” comes the affirmation from the multitudes in the dark.

Now it is I who smile.

The Accused is hauled away to his fate, and we, his judges in this, follow to bear witness to the end of rebellion.

To a tall post he’s chained.  Log and tinder are piled below.

I am handed the torch that will end this, and bring the course of the Family’s dark channels back to an even flow.

Stepping to the timber stacked high, I lift my head to gaze with satisfaction one last time so I might take with me his terror, and know my righteousness—the righteousness of us all—was well founded.

My shock nearly drives me rearward, as I see no terror at all, but instead that same sneer, that same mocking mouth that hints at knowing something of great consequence that all of us have somehow failed to recognize.

I linger but an instant, then turn away, dropping the torch upon the fuel of his much deserved end as I do so.  I hear flames crackle behind, and walk away.  The faces of the Judge, Jury, and glowing masses in the dark, stare up at the Convicted.

Yet they do not gloat.  They instead gasp.  Then, as before, they all point.

I turn to see him, the Convicted, my Nemesis, my defeated foe, engulfed in flame.  He screams not.  He smiles still.  How?  Why?  A singular thought had by all minds whose eyes behold what mine do.

Then I am answered.

My robes catch fire.  My hair ignites, then my body, as if one of the logs from the inferno of the Condemned, bursts into roaring flame.

I scream, harmonizing with the Judge, Jury, and all the Witnesses as they too burn.

Over the great din of the whipping flames, and with the last of my consciousness, I hear him, the Condemned laughing, and I know the truth…

He is me.

He is us all.