Beloved Gnome

Below the surface of the external
you move,
skillfully gathering treasures
for me

These you push to the surface
at appropriate moments and
I am filled with awe at
your artistry

I poke about in the grubby
reality
searching for signs of your
being near
A keen desire to possess this
wary spirit
dominates me

You have disappeared into
your special subterranean world
of wanton fantasy
Silence engulfs me and
I wait
willingly, longingly, for the
next eventuality

Modern Warrior

Modern warrior
my red chief
whose wands and words
help me to dissolve the
bitter taste of remorse

Whose rattle speaks
blessings
I would not have or hear
before

And when your eagle
dives downward
from the heavens
and folds its
mighty wings
as it rests on your arm

I liken this to my
bruised spirit
which returns to your
teepee
essentially
unarmed.

Spirit Rain

I awaken to hear
your footsteps on
the pathway to
my resting place

I watch you kneel
within the circle of
my fire and
breath blessings
into the flames

And as you retreat
I reach out to touch the
hem of your cape
and sparks ignite
creating stars
in my dreamtime
sky

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