Tribal Land


Driving north of Ignacio, the blue star kachina and the angled faces of Chimney Rock, cabbage and carrots shredded into Planck-slaw: the frequency so low it twirls in no pattern.  Quanta emitted from this body therefore is great, hot, and feels like Read More

Climate Change

I want to awake at dawn

And with the finality of the seventh day, say:

“It’s done.”

(Or better yet) have no memory of that

Long night.

I want the culprits of sex-traffic to awake

Beating their own breasts

Compassion like filial love pours forth like

Virgin blood. Read More

August Rainbows

Creede Rainbow

Photo by Amaya Engleking

Just out of the shower, baby in bed, husband putting toddler to sleep; I look down the hall to see the front room awash in that lemon-zest glow that is common of the dawn, but a prized gift for bedtime.  Still seeing a light rain to the west where the sun is ready to slip behind the mountains, without hesitating I grab the camera and bolt out the kitchen door, sure there will be a heaven-sent rainbow in this reminding light. Read More

Homesick Angel

Pearl2

‘Pearl’ by Amaya Engleking

Words are nutrients for the lone poet. She who, in loving devotion, asks for revelations from God, is shown the brilliant design in golden fish-scale scapes layered as soft pearly flakes– rising miracles from the cracked crust of the earth, with each new world existing both for, and because of, divine love. She dips into one pool and each ripple is a new-born dream, manifest as human on earth, as star in sky, as song in space. Read More

Love Thy Neighbor

grassy-knoll2
Form.  I can now respect it because I am at the point at which the slope of craft unfolds in a rolling wave – a lush Brisanchu knoll of light and deep shades.  But before reaching this unexplored scenery, I had to die.  And before that I had to know the God within and without were one. And yet, before even that struggle wrought by youthful temerity, desperate groping and inchoate spirituality in the seven-year crepuscular dome, all culminating in one terrifying moment in Hengyang; I had to love and trust a God I couldn’t even feel, but for the myriad wonders of the world, believed in.  Read More

Compensating For Salvation Work

tower of bodies

Some raving liberals and conservatives want to make it a law that it is mandatory to birth in hospitals.  The older I get (I don’t know how I’ve missed it before) I see the near-desperation to which people get to exert control over other people.  What in our nature makes us corrode to such a crazed spiritual state?  I’m reminded of the paintings depicting hell, the ones where there were all of these naked bodies stepping on and smashing each other to get to the top; but the scope of the paintings never showed ‘a top.’  Sure on the outside we’re composed and accomplished, and whatever ‘work’ we’re up to is for the benefit of humanity and/or the economy.  But our dirty naked and neglected souls!  We’ve long given up on what actually matters and go bustling about in the affairs of others’ and a myriad of vanities in hopes of, what?  Compensating for salvation work?

Read More