The Umbra of Seventeen Juniper Trees

The shadows were extremely long under the juniper trees,

connecting nothing with nothing.

The berries of blue tinge scattering sunlight through my hair.

Awed by Raleigh weaving,

everywhere brightness revealed everything rightly,

wrongly distorting

the opaque objects: rocks, weeds,

tent, the fence, casting

wavy dimensional silhouettes.

Attract then merge,

reverse projections in blister effect

...to think we are each the only world we are going to get!

Each a self aware umbra

washing in waters of life,

fluid–

waves from the deep universe thrust upon this land

just for mud to choke our skin;

wait for souls to cleanse,

wait for translucent water to quench our eternal thirst.

Not even water’s refraction can attest to this suffering!

This fog shadow reveals supernumerary arcs of extra color.

Through the smoke of the juniper

a distant acoustic shadow

echoes through the valley, over the mountain Venus sits in Pisces,

twice past perihelion day

water bleeds! The tides do not recede,

raining, gushing, flowing, streaming. Striving to return to the waters;

life secretes blood, love secretes semen, grief secretes tears,

death spills blood. Life is

fluid–

When water bleeds it sinks

down to the ocean floor

losing its transparency, it pleads

to be cleansed. Wash the waters, anoint clouds of spirit

to the pools of the soul,

leaves and twigs from the canopy render oil of juniper.

Beautiful formulae of tides

reach the highest treeline,

watch shadows eclipse my space,

sun worshipper –truthful liar swirling bands.

Temps drop, stars appear leaping,

Fatima's crescent pink and wavy.

In august fall of false night,

corona fleeting

universal...contemplative...

Your mind built your world where grass absorbs all colors but green.

Veridical experiences the coin of the realm.

We survive because reality is nothing like we think!

Count the tides in our affairs,

count this great eclipse,

count the shadows, count the juniper trees, self-aware.