ducklings form a mass

smoothing bumps, magnifying

evening prayers

my mind ebbs and flows

better plotted in polar

utterly alive

a simplicity

in helical curls catching

a breath of color

you have the widest

but chaotic and angry

is to leave no trace

you reach for the moon

I do feel incredibly free

the eddies of life

He has a paintbrush

just the other day, grape leaves

a precious orchid

a tender wave wafts

reach with those ancient branches

reaching skyward — up

here, nested circles

silences itself only

while reflecting sky

let yourself be here

of moss, earth, stream, trees, and life

like a point in space

immerse all of you

what this small, precious world needs;

to truly exist

you are a symbol

you have shed for the season

to feel the cloud’s breath

“it’s the hill your on”

smell, taste of being awake

evolve into art

I feel all the strands

I do feel incredibly free

a breath of color

I am condensate

might be — organized — perfect

branches reach, yearning

all tracks in your life

like it is the very last

birds rouse the whole earth

I have a fixed point

you peek over the grapes to

cobbles at high tide

the ease to forget

hummingbird stopped me to talk

and breath in this life

my orchid’s face me

for the hidden forest doors

gather energy

reflections at sea

yellow streaks in my backyard

at the ocean’s edge

little winter bee

homeomorphic tree tops

to feel the cloud’s breath