Fiction; Scopcraeft Press,
New Mexico, 1994, $5.00,
ISBN 1-881604-16-0

A Reading Sample (Collected in Eros in Sanskrit)

Way Back When

Time was, way back when, everything turned & returned eternally. Gyres widened & the world blushed open an abundance too original to ever be reduced to a person or a plea.
Time was, acorns fell on forest floors & we saw what magic a circle seamed. In dreamtime we first sensed the joinery, tiny oak seed buried under tall trees where gurgling streams brooked every shimmer, time but the gold of the sun melting our tongues liquid that we might sing our glad prayer wandering the bee-loud glade.
Time was, way back when, the mother of all form was a maiden seducing us into human shape. Womb, star, night: the depths of the sea intrigued & into that vast space we emptied ourselves, running our madness down until the moon revealed her dark twin. Dawn found our backs bent at lathes turning alder into augured stairways heaven-sent.
Time was, we welcomed amazement & found the thread, dancing a tarantella of turns & returns that mirrored our feet’s way free of the labyrinth at Crete. To hope with our whole body, we knew what a wish was for: time never faltered & the grove we stumbled upon after walking all-day hills reached out to us until the death of all sound dwelt within us. We knew it as breath’s gate, our only beginning & end.