alderpoint

morning//
emeralds on our pulse points line a trail to creation
we are smoke beneath the sequoia
kaleidoscope vision
though the leaf of a madrone
here the ins and outs of the universe

spring summer//
sun shafts of light
pour down to the
jeweled path of trillium ovatum. usnea morning initiates the queen
sex, dirt and honey under our nails+honest work for the most part

night//
autumn fog descends
over the years became our skin
crowned our dreams
where we
forever long for her
sometimes grieving
sunset though the rattle grass

autumn winter//
dragged across the sky by
October’s moon
too tired to move even a finger
anointed and held by
the true scent of fire
here we are redwood and mycelium
arc of the rose hips, a portal
February we cry at 27 degrees
back against the mountain floor
frozen grass crunching
under our dreams
wild