10 Friday Apr 2015
Rewiring a body,
what with its arms and pinkies and patellae,
in knowing hunt
of the frequency of wind
through forest tops and hillside grass
as all else quiets,
of the partnered rhythm of breaking waves and
the ocean of this heart,
of the resonance in birthing sunlight
crossing far valley hills-
These sounds our bones hum
when the clutter and reversals and dust
have been cleared
from places they never belonged.
08 Wednesday Apr 2015
A swooping line
A twisting span
A rough hollow
An angle, sharp
A smooth soft warmth
A hard jumbled stretch..
With gentle fingers, slow contact
and light gaze-
the textures of your life,
this sculpting of who you are-
each day you explore form of spirit
and shape it with the quality of
your own touch.
Make it kind.
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.
30 Monday Mar 2015
When rhesus monkeys come
to Dharamsala,
the cedars speak louder their wordsong
and blue green saturates sky
made milky by rains.
Taking coffee at a bistro table and
looking up to catch eyes looking down–
Moonpeak behind and unwalked horizon ahead–
wedding pen to paper becomes
a most important act.
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.
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.
21 Wednesday Jan 2015
Symmetry:
Who ever planted that lie?
Why, it has grown invasively
in our minds.
Imagine
a tree, perfectly symmetrical-
it’d be the oddest specimen
in a lifetime of experiencing trees.
Asymmetry becomes the stamp
placed upon us,
not by birth alone,
but through time,
here,
walking and breathing.
Our bodies,
equally uneven, gnarled,
are intentionally so.
Hearts, lungs, breasts, testicles,
all
marvelously asymmetrical.
Our fingers and toes, like rootlets,
twisted,
play different roles
simultaneously.
Balance requires movement
to counter forces
both inside and out.
We constantly strike deals
with elements seeking
to liberate us.
And, through that making,
like the trees,
we are infinitely more captivating.
20 Monday Oct 2014
The pain life delivers carves us out, making space for an unalterable joy and a shareable wisdom, riches fed by both understanding and gratitude. If we let fear dam that transformative river, we can not embody our own power or light. The photographer not wanting to be seen, the poet feeling unheard, the model believing herself ugly, the lawyer not finding justice in her own life- we learn through what draws us. Within our challenges lie our gifts, and what seems a curse is often our blessing. Can’t walk the line without seeing ourselves and with undeveloped sight we are sleepwalking- lost not only to ourselves but to the world. Without celebrating our own Being the world becomes a little dimmer. By looking into the pain, whatever it may be, and sitting with the fear, we can rise above what diminishes us, and expand into being deeply present, inspired, spirited, instinctual, intuitive and alive. Let that be the enviable courage.
12 Sunday Oct 2014
Dismantling a life.
Kicking off old shoes,
the ones given-
once useful,
always ill-fitting,
finally worn through.
Taking bare to the contours,
sole to soul,
every granite nib and dusty stretch
fed by sky
and the penetrating scratch
of salt air.
Reaching beyond you,
I carry the minimum,
my skin soaking in what surrounds,
untouched by
what has passed or yet to be found.
I’ve wasted myself on an appealing lie.
These bright eyes aren’t for any other
than this splash of sunshine
and that long drink of water.
Sand, trail, roadside-
Terrain changes
in winding tales.
Think I’ll keep walking…
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 