07 Tuesday Apr 2015
Wind rocks the trees
at last.
They’ve been asking when
they’d get to dance,
and only flirtations greeted their longing.
Rain wets singing birds,
the sound enters darkened sky.
Singing in a storm-
fruition of a lifetime’s work.
The invitation is always there.
04 Saturday Apr 2015
Packs of begging children roam Delhi streets,
walk through traffic,
reach into open taxi windows-
western faces a target.
How they got there, how they are organized,
how they get by,
is undoubtedly a terrible story.
Meanwhile, there are those of us choosing
to suffer to be closer to God.
Delusion is thick if hurting that which is sacred
appears to be a requirement of the Infinite;
as if living fully the life given isn’t enough to remove
a blindness placing the gates of heaven without.
Returning our vision,
to where muscle moves blood,
and lungs exchange air, and
kindness becomes a language of its own-
there
we remember our Divinity.
In coming home,
we find refuge and
stop harming the world around us.
01 Wednesday Apr 2015
In your cringe
and bite
following another’s ignorant words,
pain.
Not the pain of a current slash of the knife
but of a gash inflicted long before self and other
stepped far enough apart to decide, even,
if they wanted to dance.
Knowing requires time,
recognition of habit a road winding into distant hills-
the shape your tears will mimic.
May strength and a giggle well up
along with each salty drop.
19 Thursday Mar 2015
Older even than yesterday,
not by loss or separation but
through integration.
Finding one’s bones calls together pieces
held apart
by the paralysis of stories requesting endings.
When settled back into bones,
whole now,
a new story begins.
Fire and Wind,
Light and Shadow,
Earth and Water,
the pairs learn
where to weave their edges-
fingers finding each other in warm dark.
This is full movement,
empowerment,
the invitation of Being.
For that,
there are no words.
15 Sunday Mar 2015
You call my name
when I go to that place I don’t understand,
the one where the word for terror was unknown.
Your firm, tender voice reaches in,
helps pull me out
of history that feels like a drowning.
Reclamation becomes devotion.
New birds continue to perch on the tree,
a proof the threatening waters
did not claim me.
When you call, I return
from somewhere losing its strength
to possess.
Difficult to say,
but I couldn’t do this alone.
I hear you call,
Thank you.
12 Thursday Mar 2015
I love your puffy morning face,
the one no other gets to see,
in the soft time before lymph starts moving
and upright is upright again.
I love your puffy morning face.
The absence of fear amidst such joy
caught me unaware-
How different this is
from all the rest.
10 Tuesday Mar 2015
Such daring as this,
as this,
the brilliant awakening of spirit to form,
the recollection of our song,
song of the universe.
We clear the way,
set fire to the brush, roll boulders away,
push dead, fallen trees back from the path-
We face our fears,
welcome and dismantle them,
in a full-bodied knowing
of our own magnificence.
09 Monday Mar 2015
Let the world hold you.
The father’s hands are spread beneath
your heavy newborn head and graceful spine,
his eyes engaged in gentle reverence.
Hearts in coherence.
The mother’s hands tuck you into bed,
following a long day of play,
and she sits beside you
to hear your last words before sleep,
brushing a tuft of hair from your brow.
In looking around and within,
you see humans in awkward and desperate extension,
searching for safety.
But safety
is not the reason for your existence,
for breath, for the sweetness of falling tears,
the exhilaration of dancing feet..
Sense the structure of your body,
feel the ground pushing back.
While finding that deep rest, a voice rises-
“Drop into me.
This is only your nest.
You have broad wings,
remember?”
06 Friday Mar 2015
You are worth
radical loving
and if there’s a tug at the thought-
a hand pulling down that rising red balloon-
you might ask
why
and drink a draft
that whispers back,
privately,
Oh You, begin
your masterfully passionate affair
with yourself.
06 Friday Mar 2015
Wrinkles gather
for rivulets of joy to pass through.
Skin registers the days, the years,
captures earth movements of a lifetime-
sights seen, impacts felt..
the stories awaiting coffee and a friend’s perked ear.
Faces change, hard places become soft-
another land responding to elemental embrace.
I will watch your bodyscape alter,
like your growing heart,
and smile at time and gravity’s impressions,
in that worldly deepening
of us both.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 