What was Once Solid

Paul breathed a spell.
He breathed in the pine scent of the ponderosas.
He breathed in the water vapor where the stream splashed rocks.

The spell he wanted was magical without sirens.
The spell was medicinal to remove a bruise from his ego.
The spell infused the hibiscus tea in his thermos.

He achieved that valued non-thinking.
He felt himself blur.
Merge is a better word for what he did with the wild.

Paul half understood this connecting.
He attributed it with the divine without a white bearded god.
Sunlight streamed through leaves amplifying the beauty.

Ages of death and rebirth made themselves plain.
Dead cells made way for new ones.
And the bear walked sideways past him not ten feet away.

Paul swallowed and the muscle motion brought him back to himself.
Separate now and again as the raucous stellar jays scolded.
He rose to return to town from the mountain.

His connection lingered just under the skin.
The divine inside him to the divine outside his body.
Unseen currents stream through him now, not around.

copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney

Perfectly Clean

If only the river water
washed off the veils
we use to cloak ourselves
even though
the human stains
we attempt to hide
with immaculate cotton
wick to the weave
like pious blood
blossoming into the world
thus shouting
I am a Sinner
when the only sin
is covering up
to hide the shame,
fruitlessly believing
your innermost thoughts
might escape
the notice of the divine.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney