Poetry
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Dream Catcher
A dream of bamboo groves and flickering candles. A dream of sitting in meditation, of the alchemy of bees bringing about the reality of honey, of the heart lifting, of a tormented heart and eyes grown world-weary. A dream of desire stirring below the navel, of a starry sky like a great milk-swelled breast, of… Continue reading
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Intersection
A swirl of motion disguised as effortless. Notions innumerable, channeled by a single consciousness and dismissed. Pandemonium, orchestrated as if by grand design. Sirens, horns, voices, shoes, wheels, engines, commerce, commotion, patches of persistent quiet. A rich harvest of information passing through the needle’s eye of a moment’s fraction. Another wave breaking in the audio-visual… Continue reading
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Genesis
Good morning swollen and veiled moon, trees whose blossoms are about to erupt. Good morning sun, disc of fire piercing the place where stars froze and crackled in monumental quiet only moments before. Good morning to the owl’s hushed song sliding outward from a deep pocket among the boughs, to the banshee-wailing of belts beneath… Continue reading
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Many Brothers
Connection erases age, weakens constraints, strengthens the bond of brotherhood. I have crossed many valleys. I have loved many brothers. Treetops creak and bang the way the screen door did in my own lost boyhood. A wind has risen. Dying leaves pray for us all as they descend, knowing how to honor their own wisdom.… Continue reading
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Scraping the Windshield
I’d better leave these northeast winters before my sullen brooding turns to a measure of joy, as I grow content that the edges of the road are caulked with mud, frozen slush, listening to the clatter of another semi’s jake-brake as it breaks open the shell of another midnight highway whose sound could easily be… Continue reading
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Minnows
Again, the whale descends, the tidal current pulls away. The microcosm of Us gravitates to center. We touch silence with our collective identity, the Self that is linked to all things, the part that knows it’s not alone, that knows it is a splinter of consciousness, that knows it is born again each morning. It… Continue reading
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Nature’s Classroom
The wood at the heart of a tree cannot grow without wind. Once again, nature informs humanity. Continue reading
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Birth of a Poem
Eavesdropping on your observations with transcendental accuracy, the gleam of something half-buried catches your eye. You investigate it as if it were a valuable relic, bring more of it into the light where you can see it, turn it over with a delicate hand. Working carefully, you begin to chisel fragments of it away with… Continue reading
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Cat’s Last Days
He was smart, for a cat – something people tirelessly admire in their pets. And in terms of being a cat, there was little his eyes didn’t see. But then he became a crippled old animal, no longer a threat to mice, chipmunks or birds. It was then when he himself became the hunted, by… Continue reading
C.M. Rivers 