As there is always Sun, there is always Waves

Then there is air,
A Spray,
A Full Light

It starts at the muffled bottom.

murky

Subtle pull back, then forth

Tumultuous tossing

There is pressure, then release

Pulled up towards the light

There is sound with it

Wider, then tighter

Freedom, then confinement.

Light, then Dark,

Like a pendulum, a swing,

A dance that swirls

And bubbles

Then there is Air

A spray

A Full Light.

A Wind Carries Droplet’s

Each a prism under the Sun

Some Evaporating into the air,

Some will become

the Hiss that Covers the Shore, then goes silent.

The Water recedes as it gets ready to release its spray again,

Then Again

Then Again

Then Again

Then Again

And

Always.

As there is always Sun, there is Always Waves.

Molten then Rock

It is a Rock that feels warmth, then cold, then warmth.

This for the Rock is how it began.

First in fire, then cooled.

Pressure formed its shape.

Constant churning of

Atmosphere, layers of earth, dirt, water, more stones

Tumbled from the depths to the surface over

Centuries, over Eon’s

Over a vast, endless period of time

The churning is a constant

To the Stone,

To the Creatures that walk upon it,

Toss it, build with it, Carve it

It is a constant in their lifetime.

Solid as a Rock.

The Rock will feel the light of days,

Coolness of Nights,

It feels the duality of time,

 Creatures that speedily

Live their lives above the ground, then return to the Earth

As waste, then repeat their cycles through dirt,

Grass, Plants, Bugs, Prey, Predator

It will feel the landmasses float on magma as they

Crash into each other

Push up mountains, bury and squeeze Oceans into

Rivers and lakes.

The Rock will ride a land mass below the surface, be

Churned into hot lava to be spit up again,

Churned with other Molten Rock,

Spit up again to cool under the Sun, then the Moon

 As they take their tangent infinite spins.

This is the Nature of Rock

It’s sense of time is not Daylight then Nighttime.

It is to be Mountains, then Stones, then Landmasses

Then Lava, then Mountains, then Stones, then Landmasses.

Molten, then Rock

Molten, then Rock

Molten, then Rock

A Moment of Nothingness

Leaving room in the air

It was between Stars missing its Moon

and on a field

Of once Sun-Drenched Grass

Crickets stopped rubbing their legs

Leaving room in the air for the sound of

the Breeze as it finished its brush with the tips

Of the Grass

It’s a Pause

A Stop

Empty Air looking to be filled

By something long distanced

That is missing its Moon

Its Sun-Drenched Grass

It is a sound that doesn’t come

The Pause of the Grass Hesitates

The Sun Missing Stars Blink

It is a moment of Nothingness

As broad as there is Horizons.

As quickly

The Breeze enters from the North

Begins to move the tips of the Grass

The Stars Blink

And Crickets

Restart their Stridulation

It is Eon’s of ion’s and Rock’s

All Edges of Land Meet Water

It is Eons of Ion’s and Rock’s

All edges of land meet water.

With the rotation of the Earth,

The Breath of the Wind,

Waves Splash on Rocks.

It is:

Eons,

 Ions

and

Rocks.

It is a Shield and Spear Paradox

That makes Sand.

This is why Sand is appropriate for an Hourglass.

To Each

Grain

Of

Sand

It is Eons of Ion’s and Rock’s

June Under Full Moon

In the woods, just a few yards West from Woods Lake.
I had cleared a small area for a cabin

It was the year I was living in Monroe,

In the woods, just a few yards west of Woods lake.

I had cleared a small area for a small cabin

Some nights I slept in a tent, some nights I slept at a buddy’s abandoned house about 2 or 3 miles down the road.

The Property is 11 miles north of Highway 2,

It is mostly 2nd growth cedars now, 1st growth was taken in the 60s, though there are some stumps left from a fire that was started by lightening.

One of which a hundred yards or so from the build sight had been hollowed out by time, dirt floor, empty space of maybe a 7 foot diameter

The top 6 or so feet up was shaped like a cave.

I had placed a foldable chair and small table there for sitting,

Of which I would do so often, listen to the rain dance on leaves, or wind play with branches an occasional deer would walk by and not even notice that I was sitting there with my cup of tea.

It was an escape into this tree that I liked the best of Monroe.

There is something indescribable about being inside of a tree trunk unseen while you watch the weather, birds and creatures.

Something like a live action tv I guess with smell of wood, leaves, dirt and rot, no one knows that you are there.

It is a peace that I can only imagine one can find when they are truly separated from the world and all its dysfunctional hustle and bustle.

We think of Full Moons as magical, beautiful and mysterious, I guess we do so for its folklore.

I will say, the woods are different under Full Moons, trees and paths are lit at night, you can walk and see your feet, where you are going, you can see subtle shades of green, browns, reds.

There are also shadows.

Shadows of differing greys and shapes, they move with the clouds that come between you and the moon, this accents the sounds of moving branches and leaves that the breeze or wind, or small creatures make. Creatures are busier, Owls, Coyotes, Raccoons, Mice.

It is their time, they take advantage of the moon and the deer are aware.

This is where being in a Hallowed out Old Growth Cedar is a Harbor,

The breeze will enter, swirl inside its cave, give you the scents of the forest, exit with the sounds of the breeze, of the wind, of the branches of the leaves

and the sounds of a hoot owl.