Be Still Child

Be still child

And listen to the sounds of the stars

You came naked on the backs of the celestial storks

Writing fresh folklore with every foot step


You crept over the blue threshold

Through manifest and manifold

Through tumbleweed and milky way,

Starspray, and mothers milk.

You grew through eyes of needles and bundles of sage

You knew through rings of trees, through wings of bees

through amber sap and rage

You came upon this moment in the golden age,

Smoulder cheeked and comet eyed

And that


was just the start

you lit a fire inside your heart

and crept through fields of sleeping stars

to hang your moon on the back of a mountain

and open up all your eyes with a gasp

clasping all the impossible moments with tiny hands

you drew a circle in the sand and

somehow, it saved you,

As you gazed through the grey dew

and gawked at all the silver strings

strung out between the mundane things;

shoeboxes full of dustmites and eternity

and me

somewhere, in some imagination

as every layer of time pealed back

I was you and you were her and all the hands were dust to dust

And ether to ether

Grass and earth and stones beneath her

Ancestors and bones to teach her


Be still child

And know the nectar of nothingness

In the beginning times when you and I were seeds of stars our heartbeat was a future memory and the melody that the sun tells to the sky

Let this momentary lull within your skull be your long lost lullaby

Let the sun slide down your tongue

Let the moon be your window

Let the river run through you

The water is alive.


The Country Of Dreams

Now I lay me down to sleep

The will of the goddess, mine to keep

She holds our lulling heads at night

And speaks through stars and firelight

I pray the mother gives me sight

And lifts my lips to drink in light


She emboldens the weak

And visits those who seek

and leak moonspeak through peaking slits in milky eyes

She rumbles in the echoes of your cries and mumbles through the gentle music of your thighs

She tumbles with your tears and bleeds with your births

We walk upon her, as the earth



she lies always across the threshold

just beyond the veil

In the long green country of dreams

Where the moon hangs boldly on the boughs of the trees


Her lips are wet with pearls and moss

She whispers her tidings into wanting ears

And soothes those who have loved and lost



At times she rises up; a burning light to behold

These times she stands on crumbling ground

Her long grey glances profound and old

She pears through silver eyes with primordial sight

She is our long lost guiding light

A wavering lantern

An impossible flame

As ancient as any sun

She remembers the days when her daughters and sons were as one

And beheld her their mother, the witch and the bitch, the number thirteen and the howling pitch

the early earth tone, that rakes your bones, and lifts the fog


have we all but forgotten the rotting of our cities? the people cry out and the wastelands burn

styrafoam castles melt into small impossibilities and a few muses muse and seek to believe

the last little embers can still make so much steam

The great mother bleeds, she sings and she seethes, the stars and seeds whisper of her return


The music of the spheres is ringing in your ears

A memory that is not your own passes silently into the marrow of your bones

And suddenly you know her, you’re born of her, her children all are your brothers and sisters

And she beheld them, her little children, standing in their own feet

She wore many faces

And striding the earth, her feet touched many places

she loved the world across all of the races

She strode across the magic lines that encircle the globe and bade blades of grass to bow down to her and the wind to whisper her many names

And even today she silently reigns

And we build skyscrapers and strip malls across her war-worn face


But in the nights, in the country of dreams,

Still all of us bow down and worship in the language of bones

And meet in secret circles of ancient stones

And when we intuit or empathize

her light peaks in through the tiniest window of our eyes

Into the paper plastic world of today

And slowly, as seeds sprout and cities burn

We transmute

And we reclaim

And she returns

Long may she reign.



Mural Progress

Here’s a process photo of me working on my newest mural at Hostel In The Forest. I will be spending time there soon to finish this up, and I’ll post more photos then! Thanks for looking. IMG_0069

Progress on my new mural

Here’s a process photo of me working on my newest mural at Hostel In The Forest. I will be spending time there soon to finish this up, and I’ll post more photos then! Thanks for looking. IMG_0236