14 Tuesday Jun 2016
If dreams rise
of planting marigolds in snow,
yet the spiders that plague you still
have not yielded
understanding,
can we love each other in our differences?
While you wrestle with your ghosts,
and I with mine,
is there a golden bridge between us
where
the songs we sing,
the tears filling our eyes,
the breath aching our lungs,
the laughter erupting before placid waters
may join?
We mustn’t forget
how many languages we share
even without knowing
any of the words.
06 Monday Jun 2016
This body is my drum
beating
inside out
into the world.
If your ears sense the beat
we both may
smile.
If your heart does,
we surely will.
Pulse rhythm cracked a shell
holding me back
from the raw thwack and rocketing yes
of unrepeatable
moments.
Hiding, shrinking, running dulls
music
all of us are here to create,
together..
Pick up your drum.
Let’s dance ~
15 Sunday May 2016
Were i
to reach for the stars
my pants would fall down.
Today requires earthly attentions.
Keeping up trousers may be
the ultimate action
while loftier desires
could knock me, particle by particle,
straight out of orbit.
Cupping a star in two small, mortal hands
must wait
until palms can remain steady
holding an infinitude of concentrated light.
Honoring
means discerning–
Here, fantasy. Here, reality.
With that slice we both
possess
the fullness of flourishing space.
14 Saturday May 2016
An open chair awaits you.
Clearing it of a tumbling-height stack
of NOs
took some doing.
Approximately four decades worth.
And now that the rich, carved wood and velvet
of that high-backed chair holds nothing of mine,
there’s space for you at the table.
Admittedly, food hasn’t been cooked…
Uhm tea, however,
I’m ready to commit to.
Candle, flame and flowers adorn
ridged lengths of milled tree
where our cups may sit.
Breath hasn’t yet dropped to belly-
waiting on your arrival out here in the valley
has caught it between Yes and Oh shit.
A place here, with me,
at a royal oak table welcoming us both
is the stretch of generosity and strength
born thus far.
07 Saturday May 2016
In the dark unfolding familiar
and friendless place
where place began,
a necessary and
deceptive
seed was planted.
Nourishing form, forgetting spirit,
growing grew and suckers spread.
A viral overload threatened.
Silently
soil
fed
resistance.
Until…
One day,
she runs.
From sick enclosure out into night,
thinly covered,
taking nothing, no shoes,
she bolts in a snap of a now! beyond
hallways, doors, gates,
with pounding heart, searchlight eyes, flying hair,
bare feet slapping pavement,
escaping by back ways known
intimately as the corners of her old room.
Rushing behind houses, through hedges,
ducking limbs, all chance of observance
and grabbing dominion.
Outside the limits,
with no objects to keep her,
by her own deliverance
she finds
her true way Home.
02 Monday May 2016
Sometimes I must contain rivers
greater than my banks
and
I wonder,
just what it would be like to be you.
Limbs moving so,
thought dangling here and here,
and a curl,
tongue licking there
and eye gazing upon scenes
I could never see exactly
the same way.
Within these banks I capture moon
lighting the way
but in the flood
life flows too fast
and grand
for understanding to catch me.
Yet it does,
eventually,
it always does.
Recount to me what it’s like being you
and perhaps
both our banks will expand to hold
a whole lot more of forever.
24 Sunday Apr 2016
So the hot water doesn’t work,
the man divorced your ass,
the chickens became coyote snacks,
black widows took up residence along beside you,
flying ants infest the house,
your regular bleeding has voted for hyper-regular status..
what, what to do?
Yell, cry, tear out your hair,
drown in movies and wine,
sleep until it ends,
throw things, set others ablaze,
stomp around and,
and,
and
…
What else?
The toaster still toasts, after all,
and the dentist DID say your teeth are healthy and great,
the walk into the hills has redeemed you
before,
many many times before,
and why tear out perfectly good hair,
especially when it’s yours,
and yes, a rest in that bed sounds perfect,
because
you are tired, child, bone-deep tired.
And beyond the chaos and conundrums,
hallelujah resonates in your heart
with each
remaining
beat.
Hallelujah beats,
here in the mess,
hallelujah beats with you…
20 Wednesday Apr 2016
Call me Pele.
All forms burn and
none stands outside creation.
Shake your definitions loose-
this is generosity.
The fires sustaining me,
I sustain.
Unbroken circle-
food, faethm, corage,
the Wild.
Do not question
if you desire
better.
For, certainly,
better
desires you.
19 Tuesday Apr 2016
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.
03 Sunday Apr 2016
So it begins
with
but They but They
and the story pretzels and snarls
morphs into a thorny thicket
of
Yes but.
So it begins.
Reaching in with pruners and magnifying glass,
a madness of
I will get clear!
muscles work, tire,
eyes pierce, squint, wrinkle-
strength and a certain Sight grow.
One silent morning arrives
with a way through,
not simply a way through,
a path clear- as intended-
and They
are long gone.
Suddenly, dust still in suspension,
the same pain jolts its head through packed earth
and there’s no
But They
anymore.
Only you.
And so it begins…
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 