27 Sunday Apr 2014
Reaching not for the words connecting us now and hurting us later-
the weave of the uncertain
fodder
but assuredly for the wrong fire-
this heart dances in the palm cradling the world.
Thine eye may grab me yet I walk on without whisper
when my words belie the preciousness
of which we are,
for Song is the effortless nature of a forest brook responding to the rain.
24 Thursday Apr 2014
Were this all-
the mirage within which we play our games-
colored light on night’s sleeve,
dew resting on lips of the rose,
cricket song the whole day through,
skin brushing skin,
hand on metal hand on stone,
red kettle steaming,
serpent trail through dust,
squash blossoms…
these would not bring us pause~
for in a single breath moves
Eternity
05 Saturday Apr 2014
in the reaching comes the wobble, and its laugh.
beyond this silly dance is grace.
let us drink of that silent nectar.
and leap without hesitation into the dive,
spiraling slowly in
to where the rhythms of current and pulse
are indistinguishable.
doubts,
mosquitos of misdirection,
they’ll buzz our ears;
learning to hear the uninterruptible song,
there lies our focus,
and, in time, they will no longer swarm,
as song and rhythm and spiral enfold us
in one movement.
10 Monday Mar 2014
We’re all tourists. Going anywhere for pleasure makes us so. Step back and see we’re all transitory- few of us live where our ancestors began. Take that back far enough and all of us came from the same place. Literally. Or metaphorically. We are transitory beyond existence itself. We are visitors in these bodies. And, hopefully, we visit new spaces for the joy of it both within and without. May we all be tourists, becoming mindful navigators of the unknown…
15 Saturday Feb 2014
Posted in joy, quotations
≈ Comments Off on madman
“To be joyous is to be a madman in a world of sad ghosts.”
– Henry Miller
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 