Moving Out West…

Manifest Destiny

I’m not the dirt crusted beneath your nails
I’m the internal, eternal process of being you.

You were buried beneath western plateaus
and I was drowning in eastern seas.

If the desert once French kissed the oceans
do you think they miss the waters—

miss it like you say you miss me?
I’m following the trail you carved

etched out pocket knife love on cacti and oak trees.
All that matters now, is you and me, is we,

the awkward following of pine trails and tumbleweeds
hear you calling me westward in the petal lifted breeze…

I am more restless now that I am aware of you,
travel these old shattered highways to be near you

only in mind, in dreams, in wishes
send you the wind with messages and kisses.

“Blue, come to California, to L.A., westward to me…”
but, I’m chained here still finishing time under Florida palm trees.

Jumper…

The Next Depth

Once, he was called
a coward, because he stood at the edge
of the precipice and saw
the hard bottom
of the bottomless pit

had to be convinced, coaxed
into high-diving.

And as he fell
through the promises
of immortality- -of the seeming endless
freefall, he saw through
the soft-spoken lies
of cunning
linguists

He saw the once courageous, lacking,
clinging to any available ledge

So, when he alone hit
unyielding reality—conscious cleared, branded
by brand new bravery—he brushed
off
superficial bruises and stared
without fear, into
the fathomless future.