still becoming

riding my bike
the crunch of stones
popping. giddy with speed
my pony gallops. nostrils wide gathering
in the sweet tabaccos of autumn leaves.
Rawlings to Prospect, pushing up now. past hollow tree
past hummingbird heaven
the top wide open water view bursts

Prospect to Bridle, follow the fall line…
down Lees, wind through Cathedral
rumble over the cedar walkway
and whoop over the bridge back to Lost Lagoon,
and to all that like you, is still becoming.

h.burke November 2 2015

Transcendent Tendency/ 3 over 2

As we live ~ and die…

flightless birds

flying anyway

over the liquid land

a finely tuned sky poet

touches sympathetic strings

all held aloft by human invention

in this flying machine

I see the rhyming patterns of land and sea

how the liquid land coalesces

through bodies of water

bodies of people

wind and sand

the three domes

of earth, skull and sky

cranial patterns of earth

as by breathing

the double helix of life arises