psalm VIII

green pushes out

onto wintered sticks

as if it was never gone  

though body

limbs

remember long ice ages

of black branches and

winter white

heavy trudge of endless February

now releasing its grip  

giving way

stepping aside

bowing to  

this green pale tender new

half formed leaf

chlorophyll

pulsing through a thousand veins

billions of times over

creating this  

welcome wonder

prairie voices

calling to us across

vast valley of

river Red

no beginning or end

only expanse of

level land

with esses

and dots of swelling spring water  

echoing along windy

dust-deviled dirt roads

telephone poles like laughter

lined up to                          blue horizon 

radiating out

over fallow fields

lying like patchwork quilts

waiting for fertile harmony

of seed                sun         and rain 

lilting above a people

who cross and recross

these square intersections

squinting icy sun in hope

of                            sudden summer

wedding poem V - Tim and Rachel

braided rope with

three

strong

strands

made of

yellow roses

white ruffles

sunflowers

binds these two wanderers

and winds around band of witnesses  

singing spring as they walk together

through petals

 to open doors leading to sunshine

and blue sky  

cold seeds awakening

in May

petals clinging to shoes

Cohen at MTS Center

fedora shades eyes

mostly closed

two slits

diagonal

on handsome/haggard face

but they seem to see

everything

ribbon of time

extending back

and through this moment

to tomorrows shadowed/shaded with pain and grace  

this moment of prayer

taking stage on knees nimble

yet slightly arthritic  

and aged hands cupping microphone

deep canyon voice chanting melody of

spirit and sex

angel voices harmony two octaves above 

and this arena

this billboard building

becomes holy space

a healed  world

imagined behind those mostly closed eyes

shaded/shadowed by fedora