she is awesome and my honey,
she is sweet and stunning,
she is wonderful and amazing,
i am so grateful for her living.
her life, how great?
how truly great?
her love, how fabulous?
how truly magnificent?
on a willow log the squirrel runs
making new friends with the moss
that mesmerises the lowly worm
in spiral shapes, and brings the
bluebird rest in grace.
the leafs in arresting verdant streams
are wondrous and marvellous,
the elk lay down on them,
and the foxes that drift by at noon
pause at the sight of them.
it stretches to the bubbling river
that opens up in the fog of the morning
and gives a water spawning for miles
at the mystery of springs in mountain twilight,
the sun, melting snow, it rises above calling
goose. and one day i started calling it too,
she was not too far from me,
in my arms it seemed,
in my breath wherever i go,
throughout my life, this much i know,
i go to the river at dawn,
and i see how much God has done.
the daydreamer's gaze
another cloudy, chilly day
tells the story of the daydreamer's gaze,
solitary and wild, still and contemplative,
bringing in a boat full of rainbow fish
just in case the day turns colder
and the town gets some rain,
taxicabs drifting through the horizon,
on their way to a new place and time,
where what is home is silk and wire,
and moose hides and antennas,
going off to some other moon
we keep trying to get to,
some other gravity's ways
and the hope of a better day—
going the wrong way.
running in the window of sparks,
meeting her at the mall,
the rendezvous right at noon,
a bagged lunch of a child,
the hope of a stargazing style,
the air of the open hills and fields,
breathing in crisp oxygen and tilling,
home for the bounty of the reaper,
in the summer sound and atmosphere,
grass and jasper dish sets,
for a turkey basil sandwich,
and new haystack.
poems by Ryan Ventriloquist