The Word

I turned to face The Word

and as it yielded its wieldy wisdom

on golden-edged page

I shouted,

How dare you speak to me,

Flesh,

with such a tome.

If the world 

speaks any message

so urgent

I will learn it

through cricket's crisp tune

and the herb's potent bloom.

I will breathe in

the moist sunbeams of morning

and know.

Return to Mendocino

You are in my veins again --

Ebb and flow of

steel cold blue.

Desert green on a 

dark gray cliff,

Creeping hiss of

white lace foam.

Cliff face chills

my resting bones.

My pulse makes time

with pounding tide,

Pores absorbing

salty spray,

Familiar drug --

home.