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Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone

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Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone

Category Archives: giving

Enter the back field

16 Tuesday May 2023

Posted by feralpoet in giving, grief, poems, poetry, receiving

≈ Comments Off on Enter the back field

Enter the back field,

forgotten field,

the ignored place,

avoided place,

and wait.

In that expanse,

glacially, co-arising finds faces

to show you.

As knocking starts,

though there are no walls,

no door,

trust who comes…

Way out there on the dirt

created by every death ever,

soon enough including your own,

while it feeds infinite Life,

a quaking begins in your heart,

echoes of the pulsing earth upon which

you stand.

Do not run.

Throw off your shoes, find your feet,

let the soles of you do the listening.

As the countless losses

that have brought you to this moment

wash through, over and around you,

within those faces being shown,

greater understanding dawns–

eventually.

And though the grief you’ve held away,

both knowingly and not,

feels like it will do you in as, finally,

you agree to do more than encounter

this abiding friend,

how concrete and personal it all has seemed

now shimmers,

quivers,

like water,

like air,

and its permanence–never real–dissolves.

Traces remain,

beauty of fossils, of exoskeletons,

and strength to take another breath

is given,

not simply found.

Lightness accompanies darkness

in their timeless marriage

consciously

once again.

Rain

29 Wednesday Dec 2021

Posted by feralpoet in giving, motion, poems, poetry

≈ Comments Off on Rain

Globe diamonds dangle in slanting sunlight

following morning rain.

Nothing could be brighter,

more precarious.

The river can’t gulp fast enough

after all this rain.

Days of wetness, slow, fast, hard, intermittent.

Maybe nothing more beautiful,

except that it falls exquisitely in the shallow bowl

of the bird bath.

Oh, it’s musical, even on the other side of glass.

Years of dryness and thirst, drought damage

and wondering, fires and more fire,

and now this.

The frogs are having a field day.

A field month.

And my they are sweet.

Between prayers

23 Sunday May 2021

Posted by feralpoet in abundance, aging, becoming, giving, growing, Infinite, land, learning, poems, poetry, prayer

≈ Comments Off on Between prayers

The fourth decade

walks me between prayers,

of one blinked forth twenty years ago,

a blessed ‘Fuck it’ rising from the earth

to cup and guide and split open, and

of another gathered in the thirties–simply

‘Thank you.’

With solid scaffolding of experience under me

I can walk with the first tucked in a back pocket,

the second, on more able days, held in heart,

and the infinite wanderings between

growing a garden of ripening fruits and blooming flowers

with seeds maturing slowly toward ground

rich with Life ready to receive them.

All along

22 Friday Jan 2021

Posted by feralpoet in abundance, fertile, giving, listen, offering, poems, poetry, receiving, welcoming

≈ 1 Comment

Grieving the grandchildren never to be had,

I step back downward on the path

away from the peak wondering

what unborn children might become

among seeds of the treasured and unsung.

Tomorrow,

I’ll pick up a brush and dash color across

textured cotton and dried pulp

to interview an inner nobility I’ve yet to know,

to praise a blooming that’s still to come.

Come,

come unnamed seeds and show me your way,

we can cross the river, a bridge to stay,

at least until your voices are heard

whether in color, sound or word.

Sleep, you blessed ones,

a womb welcomes you now

whatever your form;

Sleep for now, you blessed ones,

fertile ground awaits you,

your brightness a bell, an arrival

celebrated ever and always along.

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