28 Thursday May 2015
Adrift,
alone and wandering…
time to tend closely.
Fear rises with groundlessness-
unanswered questions
become the new earth to tread.
Being nowhere
requires patience.
Patience, the bone builder,
the strength bringer,
the knowing one;
She who comes to a whisper
yet stays only with grunts.
Approach softly
and keep your mental seat.
Carving pathways demands
sustained effort.
Laughter rises upon landing
in the open arms of the unknown-
we deceive ourselves if we think
it’s ever any different.
27 Wednesday May 2015
Stop drilling
your eyes
into
me.
Otherwise,
those bits built for wood
will bite
metal.
I’ve depths your dreams don’t even reach,
were it not so
you’d know better than to seek thus.
Fasten yourself, if you want
the sensuous ride-
let go and fall
inward.
There
you
will
find
Me,
the bodiless
embodiment–
She who has no name.
25 Monday May 2015
She leaves behind
a constriction of heart,
with protective, limited beating, and
steps into a centerless center
with rivers vast..
tributaries both drawing and feeding..
Headwaters spring silently
out of mountains, and build depth
hollowing gorges.
Miles and miles
of woven waterways, each
with a Song.
Her heart is no longer an organ but
a Way
with rhythm.
25 Monday May 2015
Olives here taste of rooted earth,
perfume,
undissolved salt…
in minute crystals.
I am as lopsided as any human,
careful with my creations but learning
as often as the sun is rising-
anywhere.
What is golden to my eye may appear blue
to you.
Isn’t that what keeps a day
and a long-stretching night ripe
with intrigue and a mineral calm?
The Aegean waits for my skin
to touch it again.
Fruiting trees observe
with time’s ease and abundance.
My own sorrows are meaningless
in sight of Beauty,
they are salt
added to the Sea.
24 Sunday May 2015
He sits,
this man in his garden,
on an upturned bucket
in the afternoon shade of an olive tree,
smoking a cigarette.
His downward gaze surveys lines
of young plants, his recent work,
and plucks whatever potential-
of lazy thought
of future harvest
of aches, of history-
of each inhalation in his own world
where bees hover
to take him in.
23 Saturday May 2015
rock and water and sky,
stone and salt and wind.
if I wear skulls
they are not for your eyes to fondle-
like the bones I steep
in nutrient-rich broth
i do not forfeit all my secrets.
pushing for the mystery
will bring plastic and cliche,
which your senses will detect
as truth.
in falsity,
protection.
15 Friday May 2015
Wind scours Skyros,
casting off whatever doesn’t blow her alive.
Roosters call into her,
releasing ritual morning battle cries-
two voices,
one earthless,
one earthbound,
twist together in a marriage of grand and minute.
Cats own the streets below her gaping arms,
molding themselves into stone hollows,
low and restful,
knowing that to cling is to miss the beckoning..
Open opposite windows
and your room will fill with dervishes.
Drop it all,
unclasp fingers and release hold-
Spirit sings into nothing less.
04 Monday May 2015
Posted in abundance, becoming, devotion, fearlessness, gratitude, movement, poems, poetry, transition
≈ Comments Off on Things
Closet doors open,
Books stacked on the floor,
Clothes piled, blankets heaped,
Rugs rolled up and removed,
A gallon of vinegar squatting
where the couch used to be..
Remaking oneself’s got nothing to do
with things.
03 Sunday May 2015
a stormy gateway opened… and a golden one closes..
it can be like that
stepping outside yourself
to usher in what’s waiting.
move into an unknown place
and watch
new hands lay claim
to what you thought was yours.
01 Friday May 2015
Ground zero,
the epicenter,
the war zone-
violence, hatred and calamity
grow equally outward as inward.
Peace workers lace up worn boots
to enter the dust and rubble
and walk inner landscapes to aid survivors.
Skilled visitors to the battleground
staunch blood of the willing
and keep it from spilling on real soil.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 