Leda and the Swan

God-like swan, soft as silence, deep in a haze… Leda fell asleep on a pond bench; waking up, she saw webbed feet, pure white feathers and wings amid misty dawn.

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between virgin curves
he deep breathes evening mist
rests in the hollow
of the mountain listening
to the rhythm of quiet stream

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The Mind

Paradise is in the mind
when asleep
we sometimes find
a wisp discerning
dissolving like a morning mist

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Damp underfoot as between
the morning mist
and this moss covered wood
the solitary caw of a rook comes to meet you

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tide of perception

In the wave
I saw
a face
It wasn’t there before
I swore
face in the wave
not there before
foam at last
now just spray and mist

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