falling rocks
pour peu que le montagnard crabotte
the gesture is accomplished
 
Right on the saddle
dizzy
the shaking
 
Then the awakening
en bordure du ruisseau
in a high meadow
 
To hear the cooing
tetra lyre
to whom everything is said :
 
" Until now
I made a deal out of fear
with the things of life "
 
" J'ai enfilé les rôles
for dry pearl necklace
to be the master's accomplice dog "
 
" I avoided
I dissolved
j'ai laissé passer l'age "
 
"  Alors que le bouquetin
eat thorns
I preferred the buttered ham "
 
" I walked the earth
and saw only my toes
blackened by lack of oxygen "
 
" So the wolf came
jumping from stone to stone
vers sa dernière prière "
 
" be ice cold
in front of the heatwave of words
Shut up "
 
" put on the ten feathers of the year wisely
   - brown for the first winter
   - the long-tailed one for spring
   - some colors in the beautiful month of May
   - sparkling finery on the threshold of summer
   - The disheveled in the maze of the scree
   - the ooze of sweat under the fir trees
   - la timide apparence devant l'ombre oscillante
   - the cautious attitude in the autumn rains
   - la branche frissonnante aux premières gelées
   - the plump down jacket to protect against the cold
 
Pale meaning
of a sun in solstice

Awareness of the way
presence in the world
real life now
by flavor of fullness

invent his name

to have one's eyes open and one's heart beating

the tunnel leads to the open air

the land smokes after the rain

the silence in reception
of variety
the other
of dawn
day and night
and harmony

embrace what comes
perpetuate the breath
be eternal
such the essence of life
to say
that death was killed

and sing the lullaby of happy days
in understanding and mastering
of our soul
in basso continuo of the song of being 
at the mercy of the eagle's cry.
 
 
 
601

Au tunnel    
of the fitted cave,    
entrée les oiseaux de l'aube,    
at the click of the key    
the muffled sound of the drum    
scrapes damp walls    
near the rock,    
living emerald    
vibrating to the onslaught    
of a dancing candle.        
 
Pick up the pace    
to the heart,    
the chest chirps the song    
clear exile    
where we come from,    
poppies lifted in spring    
on the edge of the wheat    
to grow in cool morning weather    
hands in pockets    
of the overcoat.        
 
Permanent pistil    
for the bee to buzz,    
free offer    
on the edge of the woods    
near the shave with clear waters    
cooing with ease    
under the curved grass    
by our scarlet-cheeked races    
going to the fountain    
join the passage of the elders.        
 
The animal arises    
and we run for cover    
to find him, was,   
to block our way,    
we beggars of love,    
decay of the mind,    
the watermelon swappers,    
when the deep wound calls us    
through the countryside    
near the guardian knapweed fault.        
 
mischievous pink    
covered with dew    
conversing with cornflower    
while passing    
peonies with heavy clusters    
the procession of animalcules    
steeped in holy intentions    
under landscape cover    
de cette grotte habituée    
au cliquetis d'été de la terre.        
 
Look at you,    
of your past    
make an energy spinner,    
de l'héritage parental    
make the humus of your growth,    
belonging to the land    
fais la gratitude,    
link to your soul    
do an endless quest    
in the middle of the big mandala.        
 
 
600

    A blue hole    
with charred lips    
rose from the bowels.        
 
    Did I have to remember    
of this cloistered childhood    
where my head in unreason    
knocked against the walls.        
 
    Between the rocks at the water's edge    
I sculled hard    
not to be retained for any form    
the coming age    
iron ring    
to the seagulls of hell    
to those southern seas
object of my dreams of finitude.     
 
    gray metal walls    
Ringed chains    
that the slaves dragged.        
 
    There was a before and an after    
but the, point d'horizon    
the remugles in all directions     
bathed in oppression    
we were sailing towards life    
me the stillborn    
looking for a shore    
stranded like the magnificent puppet    
blood and gold mixed
in the land of extinct dialogues.               
 
    Came late     
the expected woman    
that even wolves    
howled in recognition.        
 
    There was a party in the forest    
where dark labyrinths    
could host the ceremony    
a ray of light    
piercing the foliage    
in the clearing of instincts.        
 
    I had to put words    
but the words said nothing    
even in purple ink    
on the ink-stained table    
the milk jug contained    
the precious nectar    
and the chain jingled    
with tender curves    
future time.        
 
    Wake up    
collect your belongings    
if the storm breaks    
at the edge of the ditch    
we'll go get the daffodil and the narcissus     
provided that the school bus comes,    
the blue hole awaits us.        
 
 
599
 

A circle in the clouds   
in the hollow of the waves    
the gaze on the mossy water    
the crowd rushed    
in a haunting hubbub    
around the enclosure    
l'immanquable foi    
bringing people together    
without the expression being clear.        
 
They were there    
sweat drops    
of all the colors    
to look in the mirror    
bent knees     
without the bowl ringing    
to strain the eyes    
to the bottom of the sky    
a lighted candle in hand.        
 
Will I expect the equinox    
haymaking    
at the great bonfire of Saint John    
for elevated consciousness    
tripping over revelation    
according to the openings    
to the sound of the flute    
to give as a gift    
the ceremonial pas de deux.        
 
 
598

painted canvas    
look off    
jerky walk    
~ sweet voice.        
 
Whispers in the night    
the shadow is gentle    
garland blinks    
~ I tapote the formica table.           
 
A glass in hand    
the rough mustache    
in small gulps    
~ just like old times.        
 
It's over there    
that you have to go    
fight    
~ the earth is round.        
 
raise your nose    
a new wind    
flaking the paint of the barracks    
~ message hooligan.        
 
Sprinkled with rice powder    
scarlet laughter spreads    
stage drapes    
~ passage to the mirror.        
 
 
 
597

Of you in the wind    
the relationship    
the way of the soul come    
a step towards grace.        
 
An exchange    
in the conjunction of looks and thoughts    
the verb at its best    
takes us to infinity.        
 
Dialog    
spiced up with the unexpected and wanderings    
when untying the link    
don't know what the other will say.        
 
Everything resonates    
for the unknown of the mind    
to this joy    
this coming and going of the moment.        
 
This moment of real life    
without the protrusion of excess    
without the wave covering the momentum    
with the "Yes" quite simply.        
 
Traces of street fights    
pride of the warmongers of instinct    
lay down arms and promises    
for peace to come.        
 
 
 
596

green basalt    
to hounds    
that their masters call.        
 
Ear resting on the black rectangle    
the voice carries low    
under the potbellied foliage.        
 
angel tit    
feeding chickadee    
in a thrill of love.        
 
walk walk    
on soft ground    
the soul in the holy land    
sous la lumière en sous-bois    
supporting the taste of the wind.    
       
 
 
 
595

     Silence is good   
for the blue of the blue.        
 
     Dent the white page    
closing your eyes feels good.        
 
     Blue mountain and blue sea    
go the fish    
persian bird escape    
whisper in my ear    
attentive and discreet    
blue word music    
it's the wedding march    
standing smiling    
heart full of desire    
it's tight against  
the blue of presence   
an outstretched hand    
oblivion of the world    
the place of origins    
the blue veil of mystery.        
 
 
594

Abrasions    
between rocks and forest    
the tree sports the arch of light.        
 
Homme    
dancing for joy    
in the lair of the giants.        
 
Gestures flourish    
of the satiated life    
amber of freshness.        
 
Danse ! danse !    
eyes of fire    
hands raised to the sky.        
 
 
592