Outside, blue.
Rain and blue.
Carried by streams-
waterways we can not
understand
try though in mercy, in plight-
pollen floats,
a liquid gold.
Creation takes us
wherever it might.
Rain and blue
13 Sunday Mar 2016
Category Archives: abundance
Heavy rain
11 Friday Mar 2016
Heavy rain keeps falling,
and the creek keeps rising, singing
the canyon to sleep and the flowers awake.
Now, little wildflowers, now.
In the disturbance of sliding mud and uprooting trees,
every sweet squall and turbid cycle
does call us
to raise our heads
and offer a soft smile
as we are washed clean.
Falling in love
08 Tuesday Mar 2016
In the honey-lined quagmire,
fantasy brews laughter, chemicals, climax,
a limited union, the earthly grail.
Perhaps,
perhaps reaching
after fascinating projections-
dazzling confections of human wonder-
helps us
to find lost parts of ourselves calling
calling
for expression.
Falling in love may be a seeing
of our pieces, scattered and buried,
and a coming home
to what had been left behind.
The best drumming
05 Saturday Mar 2016
The sound of the rain
is the best drumming offered my ears
in longer than can be said.
When telling a friend
I’m proud of you,
despite how patronizing it may sound, and
I recognize your fortitude,
a clear prayer was spoken-
fuck fortitude.
Amen.
In all the wriggling and stretching and pleading
and embracing,
Love’s got way more faces
than we can imagine.
On the riverbank
28 Sunday Feb 2016
We played with our shadows on the far riverbank,
and danced to droning rhythms under redwoods,
my sister and I that night.
Nothing we couldn’t touch, that didn’t touch us,
with laughter, stars and river song
mixing our blood
and pleasing our bones.
Out of mud and desire,
family creates itself.
Ceaselessly
26 Friday Feb 2016
I close my eyes
so thought and word can find each other.
I close my eyes
so they won’t.
I close my eyes
to let the other bump up beside,
within,
and bring somatic waves
to crescent-cove silence,
washed sandy moons
of sheer cliff and no access trails
beyond verbal traffic
technology buzz
storyboard flash of decided outcomes.
I close my eyes
to find you.
Through darkness
with palms open,
toes bare,
mind still
in offering,
Thank you for meeting me here,
ceaselessly.
What comes today
12 Friday Feb 2016
What comes today
is a certain vast unknowing.
And not the passing everyday variety of
hmmm
what might i have for breakfast?
But of dipping flight of bluebirds
and the melodic chants of meadowlark.
I don’t think the lady bug hitching a ride on my calf
had less than the feeling
sweeping spring grasses before god.
Please call in
what you fear will destroy such a small house.
You deserve what undulates the desires
of entire galaxies.
Not too much to sing
11 Thursday Feb 2016
I want the peace of the dark
and first mad blushings of light,
silent cloud bellies bursting orange
and a sky gone turquoise.
I want the bare of my feet,
upside-downness of skin,
pressing moist, giving earth
and birds to flit past in dim cool.
There’s not too much to sing,
only just enough
to recreate forever.
Sustaining fire
05 Friday Feb 2016
In sustaining fire
where we both met
what becomes smoke is not the matter.
Essence
doesn’t burn.
If, in flame, you see only loss
merely mettle takes the test.
And if, beyond even that, your heart cries
More,
the task, the unchanging call,
will encircle
with leaping light
and silent whispers
to say,
You are enough.
Undertow
25 Monday Jan 2016
Between here and there
a stumble-
regret, fear, misunderstanding-
and dark becomes a sinkhole,
sky sucking through earth.
The holding fire remains in shadow,
seemingly doused,
for a time
while overhead and underfoot tangle
grip and pull
the many faces of you alone.
In a panic-replacing sigh,
a morning stretch and a here-we-go
momentum of lost space stirs
rich waters.
Silent sparks rise-
a new something takes form.
The undertow may carry promise yet…
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 