A golden sky-city
floats above the sea
may not be for you
it’s heaven to me
so come with me
and you will see
a most surreal
reality
every desire is satisfied
every night’s a fantasy
but you must do your part
here — ain’t nothin’ free
there’s a secret access
locked tight to most
but for the very special
there are private keys
those invited
have been given one
those not invited
they have none
take your forgotten self
elsewher please
to the inner sanctum
a golden stair rises
come barefaced and honest
no false guises
a palace of the carnal
a palace of rare ardor
a palace of hard truth
a palace of tough logic
a palace of rough love
a place of lush pleasure
a phantasmagoric treasure
Here in moonlit forest, midnight’s snowfall shimmers deep and still, through the boughs of old growth, like a dance of stars. It blankets our high-mountain meadow in crystal down.
This night fell quiet and crisp. A great white owl echoes through frosted cedars. We breathe deep this winter nocturne wrapped in sweet reverie. You by firelight, in my arms, your face aglow.
We entwine, deep in passion’s arms, by winter’s window. With dreams and one another, we sleep — a mid-winter midnight sleep, beneath frosted moonlight, crystalline stars a’dance above. Then you awaken saying, we’ve got to go down the mountain, I’ve work in the morning!
I tell myself I don’t want to go. Looking out the window, it’s snowing heavy. I’ll tell her sorry, too much snow! Yes, that’s it! Using the snow would be the easy way out of having to leave. Perfect!
My wife and I
have a wonderful
new Seattle home
shared lovingly with family
ruled by my precious
my 10-year-old grandson
but there are moments
I gaze back 8 years
down the halls of time
I see my beloved Oregon home
of 25 amazing years
this morning
I’m lost in this daydream…
…looking through time ‘s window
I see a warm Oregon summer
I hear nature
the chuff
of a tree’d red squirrel
the song
of birds
that flit and fly
chickadee
goldfinch
western bluebird
and others
in a flash of orange
a striking northern flicker
momentarily eschewing insects
is peck peck pecking
cracking black-oil sunflower seeds
that spill from our feeder
a red-tailed hawk calls
from atop a Sitka spruce
swaying
in the crisp blue sky
the muffled belling of a deer
wandering the safety of old-growth
whispers
through the foothills
the rustle of leaves
stirred by the breeze
wafting through the valley
smartly punctuated
by the staccato
of conifer cones
that fall
from time to time
wrested free by chickaree
and chipmunk
chattering high in Douglas fir
busy with their forage
wap — wap — wap
they bounce off our roof
striking the ground
closely followed
by the scamper
of their liberators
crunching their way
to the heart-meat of the cone
the delicacy
that elicits this furious industry
it carries me further
deeper into my memories
to the mountains
and forests
and the amazing waterfalls
that first imprinted Oregon
indelibly in my heart
caught in my reverie
I breathe in
deeply
to suddenly remember…
…I’m not in my Oregon home
I am in my new Seattle home
it’s filled to overflowing
with family
without whom I’b be lost
and love
for a moment
I do not open my eyes
I linger a bit longer
in my beautiful daydream
of my Oregon
my heart will forever be there
but I’ll never go back to stay
not until my ashes are spread
high in the Cascade Mountains
on Mt. Hood
across breathtaking Lost Lake
but here
now
on this day
filled with memories
and joy
a solitary tear
falls
This poem was inspired by one of my favorite science fiction authors, Robert A. Heinlein, and more directly, by his masterpiece, “Stranger in a Strange Land”. While essentially holding fast to the spirit of Heinlein’s novel, I’ve slightly rearranged, and mildly embellished the text to lovingly create this poem. Absent any available detailed descriptions from the author, these accompanying digital images are my interpretations. NOTE: Grok: to thoroughly understand something intuitively or empathically.
Valentine Michael Smith
was a most intelligent creature
a son
of deep space pioneers
he lived as an alien
on the far frontiers
his ancestry human
he was raised on mars
by planet natives
he looked human
but he was quite tall
and very slender
long arms
long legs
these anomalies
from being raised low-g’s
he thought and felt
quite martian
born traveling to mars
on the starship Envoy
and raised by martians
since orphaned as a boy
he’d never laid eyes
on another earthling
felt his identity circling
The stir of autumn
enwraps my heart
as summer slowly wanes
riding the early fallen leaves
on the current of october waters
whirling and bobbing on crystal ripples
round and past the river rocks
over rip rap in the stream bed
carried vividly away
into the setting sun
days shorten
shadows lengthen
a quiet melancholy
settles upon the valley
as nature prepares itself
for the slumber of renewal
but not before the crackling
joyous dance of harvest
and a crisp crimson-gold
kiss goodnight
S hrouding rains — october wanes
sorrow celebrates the vanishing light
winter smothers autumn’s last refrains
once brightest day now bleakest night
greyest grief stirs in the advancing cold
ghostly mists steal color from our sight
on such a night lost souls are sold
frozen hearts barren as the blight
hawk moon rolls slow in a chromium fog
lighting the path from a high black sky
this place is forbidding as a sucking bog
this is the dark hour for dreams to die
in this foreboding clench of deep despair
hard times slither and dejections dwell
misery hangs thick in the choking air
and no vacancies at broken hope hotel
like a dead bare greying tree
sorrow stole the light from me
life’s colors went grey and dead
no joy — only distress instead
like the barren branch
that sags and sways
these days
I still see the greys
still drawn to darkness
occasionally
sweet melancholia
holds allure for me
like jagged limbs
that wind’s stripped bark-less
life’s edges at times
still a ragged starkness
but my heart’s rebounded
considerably
though at times
it still seeks sanctuary
when gripping depression
makes it necessary
thank heavens
for my pharmacy
trust for me is hard
I am always wary
but I’m not stone
I live with family alone
I’m introspective to a degree
when I look inside of me
I see beyond the sorrows
gone are the haunting shadows
I see a man
who better understands
that life runs
on its own plans
and if your struggles
start really growing
try riding the horse
in the direction it’s going
My heart burns
afire with the ache of loss
as my eyes flood with tears
memory’s salted waters
in this intimate moment
of your transition
your final breath expelled
now at last released
to the winds of time
it lifts to silent space
as do these whispers
of my goodbye
the quiet earth
awaits peacefully
to receive your ashes
into its eternal embrace
your spirit freed to travel
to enjoin the infinite universe
farewell my friend
may your precious life energy
burst into a beautiful everlasting light
dazzling across time and space
as your physical journey
on the elemental wheel
is now complete
