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Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone

Category Archives: gratitude

Thank goodness

03 Wednesday Aug 2016

Posted by feralpoet in abundance, beauty, break out, Fire, gratitude, Infinite, joy, lovers, loving, movement, mystery, night, poems, poetry, weaving

≈ Comments Off on Thank goodness

How is it your lips found mine

from a thousand miles,

in that sudden night warmth that wraps a person

in some late, dark fogs

while salt foam hisses closer up the sand?

How is it, stranger, 

there’s familiarity in the creases on your face, 

the new color of your eyes?

Proper ones on a beach 

may never know

what every particle of sand and

hidden star understands.

There’s this,

now,

nothing more-

the breaking, dying, spinning, softening, flowering..

It doesn’t get easier, or more beautiful.

Following fear

knocks agony into coves where

it never belonged.

Thank goodness for wind.

I am a shooter

18 Saturday Jun 2016

Posted by feralpoet in beauty, becoming, break out, change, courage, Deliverance, devotion, Expanse, fearlessness, freedom, gratitude, honoring, learning, listen, Love, loving, movement, nature, poems, poetry, the road, vision, work

≈ Comments Off on I am a shooter

I am a shooter.

In all the ways I hate myself, in all the ways I hate others,

in any destruction of life in which I partake,

in my cruelties and holding on to misunderstandings,

in any willful resistance to seeing difference as beautiful,

in my own brokenness, impatience, refusal to love,

I, too, am a shooter.

And how

may 

my life-

this singular life-

be a devotion toward loving and mutual living 

on this planet,

the one inhabitable wondrous place

we all share

and call home?

Born into violence and out of grace,

how may my breath move

from the one toward

the other…

With each day

I ask,

in the face of violence,

for grace.

Mosaic garden

19 Tuesday Apr 2016

Posted by feralpoet in becoming, change, death, Expanse, Fire, freedom, gratitude, joy, learning, lovers, loving, movement, mystery, nature, pain, poems, poetry, release, transition, work

≈ Comments Off on Mosaic garden

The most dangerous words

she spoke-

“…but he has a really good heart”-

a knife

cutting her own heart out

in sacrifice to his.

A ritual, repeated,

a trance-beat of the drum

thrum pum,

only not for something holy, as imagined,

but for destruction.

The cold knife now shattered-

dropped gleefully from great height-

is planted in pieces in the mosaic garden.

Among lush green and fiery blooms,

metal glints in sun’s eye

as earthly reminder.

The grain mill

27 Sunday Mar 2016

Posted by feralpoet in abundance, adventure, beauty, becoming, change, courage, crafting, death, devotion, discomfort, fearlessness, Fire, freedom, gratitude, honoring, Infinite, joy, learning, loving, movement, mystery, pain, poems, poetry, release, strength, the road

≈ Comments Off on The grain mill

Stretches

(or pockets,

or loop-de-loops)

of time

(meaningless time)

in transition

with sensations of being ground

in the grain mill,

where would we be without them?

In a blistering wind

anger rises and hands us the energy

to do away 

with a trail of uselessness hitching

to our backsides.

(Why were we dragging that marriage/house/walrus again?)

Without halting in mad winds

who jostle our brains and

send hairs flying

we’d not have noticed the 872 pounds

of shit

attached to our spines

which

we can now let go of.

Hallelujah for stopping

to strike the match of compassionate flame

and throwing it on

a tinderbox of ancient nonsense.

Heavy rain

11 Friday Mar 2016

Posted by feralpoet in abundance, adventure, beauty, becoming, change, courage, devotion, freedom, gratitude, mystery, nature, poems, poetry, release, the road, wonder, work

≈ Comments Off on Heavy rain

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.

Not too much to sing

11 Thursday Feb 2016

Posted by feralpoet in abundance, gratitude, joy, movement, nature, peace, poems, poetry, transition

≈ Comments Off on Not too much to sing

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

Posted by feralpoet in abundance, aging, beauty, becoming, change, courage, death, devotion, freedom, gratitude, listen, movement, mystery, poems, poetry, presence, receiving, release, vision, wonder, work

≈ Comments Off on Sustaining fire

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.

Full circle view

13 Wednesday Jan 2016

Posted by feralpoet in abundance, becoming, change, devotion, discomfort, gratitude, honoring, learning, listen, movement, nature, poems, poetry, Sight, the road, transition, vision, wonder, work

≈ Comments Off on Full circle view

walking a path
moments arise
when the ground underfoot
disappears,
a little free fall
gives new vision
upside
down
isn’t
right side up
unless
it happens enough
to be forgotten..
with full circle view
one becomes whole in the turning

Them

11 Monday Jan 2016

Posted by feralpoet in becoming, courage, dark, devotion, fearlessness, freedom, gratitude, honoring, listen, movement, mystery, poems, poetry, the road, vision, wonder, work

≈ Comments Off on Them

The sensitives,
the permeable, the dancers, the strong,
knowers of medicine,
open-eyed dreamers,
familiars of the taste of tears,
hearts wounded in ache of loss
buoyantly loving all the same..
whose laughter is song,
whose feet go bare,
who chew leaves and talk with hawks,
whose ocean tides move both blood and moon,
ones as fiery in temperament as in flame,
courtiers of the unknown,
inviters of ancestors,
those who were a problem, a scapegoat,
an assigned patient…
The sensuous.
Creators and celebrators of beauty.
The manifest.
You.
Come.
We will follow the dark of our bodies
along serpentine trails
into growing light.

 

 

*with special thank you to James Hillman.

As you are

20 Friday Nov 2015

Posted by feralpoet in abundance, becoming, change, fearlessness, freedom, gratitude, learning, listen, poems, poetry, release

≈ Comments Off on As you are

Come

as

you 

are.

You may not know

what

to do with you.

Give rest-

Spirit does.

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