Water Desert

Mother Bald Eagle

Down where the Kickapoo River meets the Wisconsin... about golden hour, in front a few feet and to the right, she takes flight. I have to slow the vehicle to miss her. We turn around and first see her child who had been observing from a nearby perch. Of course the mother teacher is not far off... now she watches us.

having observed she takes to the hunt

having observed she takes to the hunt

Potter's Ridge Gold

in this humble adventure
abundance of child-like bliss
yet still
duplicity

selfishness
and
selflessness

Near Now Far

\

VFW

St Patrick's Day, 2007.

The host said, did you just get chills?

It was the end of another amazing day.

I am surrounded by synchronicity.  There are convergence of place, moment, mind... they happen more frequently lately.

For example, today we hosted a successful Green Home Show, Celebrated Saint Patrick's, and ate organic greens at the tribal dinner table.

Then there was the party...

In a home I almost lived in.

While we raged against our souls
thumping harsh decrees
yet still to perfect beat
 we five played organic grooves
(I played) a toy metal strainer
plastic pale
baby's bat
nearly bashed to slivers
and boar's head sultry
plucked and strum
futile attempt to fuze punk and jazz
healing with cascading badda baats and BANGs!
raging to release....

....something between
Korean Horror Noir
And exotic woman
in dim zenscapes
drunken
we broken men and our broken red bats, howled out the song

while at the same moment
each unaware of the other...
a baby nurses...

as

on the frozen front lawn
an almost bloody brawl
dissipated with kind words
to no sign at all.

We jammed rage
as babe was mothered
and fist then! disengage

When he upstairs, descibed hearing our caustic impov , smashed lap harps, and the like....then going out to break up the impending fight... as his baby ate... that's when i got chills.

Sentry of Water Desert

We stopped the vehicle near the mouth of  sweeping curve to the West.  The amber gravel road was boggy with melt.  There above us, proud against the sun, the water desert's sentry...

be blessed

tony