08 Friday Jan 2016
What began with two,
seed and egg,
his and hers,
created a third.
Between yin and yang,
tension rising and released,
you became.
Where are the shared waters found?
How can the mother tongue be spoken?
Not knowing may bring lasting riches,
for in the search you find You.
06 Wednesday Jan 2016
Before the flash flood breaches the banks,
Or heat melts fabric,
Or mind reaches the brink,
Step back.
In the too muchness comes a madness,
One you may never need know intimately again.
Pick up the thimble, oven mitt, helmet, or wand-
From here out you direct yourself along winding ways
In full grown possession
Of every sensuous, blossoming moment.
04 Friday Dec 2015
Along the borderline,
territory between nowhere and here,
a no-woman’s land.
As the barbed fence you’ve been following
runs out,
wire hanging,
wind and boot crush
contain the remains.
Stop walking.
Look far, gently,
in each sparse direction,
above and below.
A kiss will press your cheek,
hair will lift out of your face.
Even desolation carries Spirit.
Perhaps, especially.
Where the winds blow uninterrupted,
dry sweat into salted white rings,
room for Her grows.
Beneath an open range sky she spreads wings,
hovers,
inspires your scent.
In the borderlands, a map is only hope-
drop it.
You are being breathed-
oh yes, bigger journeys beckon
and instructions no longer apply.
29 Sunday Nov 2015
A vision may well peek from the crack
with cloudy newborn eyes,,
Step out, sticky, legs wobbling,
sensing whether this environment is ripe
for emergence.
A vision may appear,
reminding you of what’s possible,
then
disappear from whence it came.
Within the steam trail of its memory
and your belly’s pool of tears,
grief
for what could have been
and
a growing relief-
ah!
the nourishment for that dream
couldn’t exist
until now.
20 Friday Nov 2015
Come
as
you
are.
You may not know
what
to do with you.
Give rest-
Spirit does.
20 Friday Nov 2015
I monkey with words,
try on hats, new songs, clashing cloth,
break the rules, knowingly and not.
Sometimes, roller skates and wings work
with a red feather boa-
unless it’s too long
when snagging it under a wheel
becomes potentially lethal.
Swinging from trees, throwing vowels like bananas,
and whooping it up in the jungle
means
I’m not likely to be invited in for caviar.
No problem,
I’m having too good of a time out here
singing beneath the stars.
19 Thursday Nov 2015
Shame is a dark and sticky thing.
A hole we never see.
A bottomless, unnameable void.
It snatches us in the unlit alleys of our minds.
Ghastly,
what it thinks it can make us do-
shrink ourselves to the smallest brittleness
of an undesirable,
worthless,
lifeless
outcast
who cannot get anything right.
Immense power we give to one with no hands,
no face,
not even a nose.
And, how lucky we are
to have the nerve
to turn and look,
to sniff,
to get to know
the lurking bogeymen, the paralyzing Medusas,
behind the fence
and around the bend.
Come, come-
Let us ask them to tea
to learn what it is
they really want.
16 Monday Nov 2015
I reach softly into the black pocket,
wrestle with butterflies-
these are prayers
and this is Mary Poppins’ bag.
What arises hasn’t feet
or end
or concrete idea to control comfort.
This is roll of tongue,
whisker of remembrance,
waft of cinnamon from grandma’s kitchen long ago.
Your divinities are found here,
as are everyone’s.
We enter alone,
exit the same,
but billions of hands reach
to hold us in between if
we choose
to let them.
16 Monday Nov 2015
Bathed by cricketsong
in dying light,
tiny apples burst round on the limb.
Fall swoops
like twilight bats
and trails of smoky ritual.
Guided by questions,
a door opens,
letting the irrational and mysterious
walk through.
I offered you rage.
You returned it as fertility.
Thank you.
21 Wednesday Oct 2015
Normal
is a right angle.
One squares with a norm.
So what,
what are you doing
breaking your spine
to fit the shape
robbing you of seductive curves?
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 