Habitation

Habitation   

by Jason C. Motsch

Buried under layers of earth and magma,

His womb revolves around a sun of mirrors.

Reflective of an eternal explosion of color,

The star bathes his eyes in a night of sunshine,

A snowy field of restful sleeping grasses.

The viscous, chaotic puzzle pieces of his being

Have been warlike and at a truce for ages.

He is every tree in the forest,

All the sand at the edge of the ocean,

All the water in the sea

and every star in the sky.

But the roots run deep into the ground,

Gathering the pieces together,

Making a solid image of light,

Easing out of of hibernation and into the fresh air.

Free to walk under the dark, bright sky,

He leaves his tracks in the cold snow,

abandons the trees , sand and waters of the world,

and sets out for a home in his heart where habitation is now possible.

Untitled

 Ancient pathfinder

Chaos infested moth

Bombards the campfire

Notices dwellings 

Simmering in the embers

Lasting silhouettes
Cast shadows long

Filtered amongst trees

Creating dark snowflakes

Storms of cool

Deluge rip apart

The soundless forest

Adventurer departs

Burnt out fire

For warmth.

      

        by Jason C. Motsch

        

Becoming

Becoming
By Jason C. Motsch


The golden spiral tail jars my memory with the
Sun drenched veil it lays upon my soul.
Meadows and forests speak foreign tongues,
Sweeping my heart into migrating spirit houses.
Filled with amber light from sacred black holes,
Noble animals radiate with the density of a god.
The rooted webbing of the universe feeds
Everything as we exist just above the surface,
Carried by rolling waves of illuminated splendor,
a shadow away from becoming.

Radio Hearts

Radio Hearts

By Jason C. Motsch                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

Beating on the ground in a flowing rhythm,

The heart sends messenger birds from

It's fingertips into the red skies above.

Sacred songs of holy ritual expand

Into cosmic connections, distill into

Frequencies dancing from spirit radios.

Their wings flap furiously into reality,

Birdsong filling the air from my soul

to His waiting hands, ready to recieve.

My heart gladly leaves its dusty home

and beats from suggestion into exclamation,

Becoming one with my Love at last.

We soar the bandwidth eternal,

Coming in at a rate perceptible only

to our conversing ears.

I waited long.

I was rewarded.

I am free in love.

I am glad.                                

Math on Image

       

                                                                   

Thea new kday sprsaungk fortsh,
lacerakatisng thae flow ksof atime
wkith etesarnakl blosom of nakow.s

Winater jeksttiasons koverboasard,k
Floosding theak sesa witah its
Iksntearmittkent veisal okf seaksonal msaarrkiage.s

Argumenaktatsive salagheapkss oaf
Jigsakw puzzlsae dkesignss incohakeresntly
Paull at ksthea fabrkic of tsahe ksuns.

It daoesn't ksme aan ak thing.sa
Thek handss on theak clsock darop
to sksix ao clockk for sathek durastion.

Meditation

Meditation
by Jason C. Motsch


I walked through the fields of my mind this morning.
With a handful of seeds, I scattered them as i strolled
among the wild flowers.

The sun smiled warmly on my face, yellow saucer
of interstellar mother's milk.
I'm preparing the ground for next harvest
in hopes that synaptic trails are fertilized
with nutritious abandonment.
The air currents are strong and the grasses
wave in the wind but I breath and
slowly they come to a still halt for a few seconds.
Then the gusty patterns begin anew,
but the seeds are planted for new vegetation
that will withstand the constant draft,
ushering in a new, loving caress on my cheek in the
gift of the eternal moment.

Untitled

Untitled
by Jason C. Motsch




Sitting with the day slowly drizzling out through my toes,
I try to write a poem, my first in months.
Nondescript job exited by me earlier into the diamond
Embrace of my Love's presence , kissing his smiling eyes with mine,
we sped home on well worn paths under the starless night.
The rain came later as we sat at the table eating,
And as I write this, my first poem in a long time,
I glean from the cuttings of the flowers of my mind
That fortune has rained on my soul and into my life through
my Beloved man, my husband, my all.