how porous the permeable membrane

            that shuts us from the elements

            that opens us to the elements

she

            in whose skin we are

            in whose ear we are drum

            in whose eye we are retina

who

            emerges thru our silence

            our speech

            in the desert

            by water

            up mountain

where ever

            light bursts to prism

            violet first then blue green orange yellow red

 whenever

            energy fans into form

            her forms in the moment of

 ( a rose breasted grosbeak

 whirls chirps settles on rafter

 all the impetus of spring string

 in its beak)

                      the moment of

                                                          making

©Penn Kemp

apantomancy, they call it, & this turtle

chances upon me deliberately

on the margin of marsh

-bubble clusters bead the surface

he breaks for air

gold eye at swamp level

black pupil hollow

to ancient telling

turtle, do you know the way to centre island?

comfort me, speak - he says nothing

tho his mouth cracks open like a smile

to snap bugs flitting

sun lights upon water

reflect/ refract pattern

he enters obliquely

at angle of incidence

his denser medium home

-flippers push thru seaweed strands

turtles wear their home upon their back

familiar with deep div(in)ing

i follow slowly sluggish with change

to-unclean green brackish water

rolling off our great horn shells

first i thought how awkward

 to manipulate that weight

but swimming of course we're light

-amphibians adapted to both

between sleep & waking

we surrender to the littoral manifold

where elements meet

©Penn Kemp

we are all your surrounding  whose form is

of necessity  feeling  encoded in landscape

creak of red-winged blackbird  chittering tree

what need to art/iculate  we trance scribe

i hear you lady  in your element  the lowlying

frequency of silence  where thought stops clean

the senses fold in from the quarters  fold out

from the body  2-way currents consume me wholly

till your forms start up again in the more or less

corresponding characters of a different tongue

concerned friends intrude  i am they say spaced

blown thru & out the other side of reason by past

question & concept:  how are you? what are you

doing? what have you done? what  will you do?

i need not reply in person  for all so apparently

I'm here  in the continuous  pattern of response

©Penn Kemp

wait       for the moment

         when ocean recedes

      when the sound   of ocean

                                    recedes

                              sky opens

enter the elegant spiral of seashell

   enter matter

                 climb the double helix

                        see the light at apex

                                 where

                                         out there

      sand or shellwall cloud the gap

                  how to pierce trancelucence

                            lady windows promise light

                                       but bar it

wait

         opacity will clear

                the coils will spin

                                        slowly

                                                without sound

                       open

©Penn Kemp