Poetry is my prayer
solitude in chaos
quiet in the noise
soft falls the rain
wind on my face
a breath a sigh
flying in the sky
a red-tailed hawk circles
a feather drifts to ground
a sacred contemplation
a transmutation of
what happens
an alchemy distilled
to an essence
that is poetry.

on a lush green slope
of Volcán Maderas
in dappled light
sun and shadow
weave a swathe
over rock strewn path
lava propelled from within
formed basalt, carved with spirals
falling from time and space
curvilinear lines
rendered on the surface
twisting coiled curving movements
a snake slithers across
a butterfly wings through air
a turtle swims
two volcanic peaks
known before
by other names
imagine these possibilities
made by hand long ago