Dawn met night over the water
long stretched, iridescent and calm,
between the two.
Flying above the waves, sips small and lapping,
flushed a morning smile to lips
already turned up at the sweetness of fall.
Dawn met night
29 Saturday Sep 2018
Category Archives: welcoming
Sing to the waters
06 Thursday Sep 2018
Where salt meets sweet,
I sing to the waters.
Where sand holds wave, pelicans slap
great wings,
and solitary duck pops up from below
in a stilled bowl
waiting for winter,
I sing
and Wind joins in,
riffling the surface, ripples reaching
in patterns hypnotic and old.
Sing to the waters,
their reply waits for your greeting among reeds,
rushes, fishes and stone.
Where are the Grandmothers?
01 Saturday Sep 2018
Where are the Grandmothers?
With family torn, history unknown, stories never uttered,
lineage not spoken,
where are we?
We become dangling dolls, feet like bell clappers,
swaying this way and that with no ground
beneath us.
So utter.
Utter.
Utter your questions and longings to the Grandmothers,
the Grandfathers, the Sisters and Brothers who couldn’t grow up,
the sharers and protectors from the other side where
viewing carries a different, sideways, deeper,
beyond kind of knowing.
Stir the waters you can not see,
the current carrying you, and ask.
Ask.
Ask and the formations for you to hold and gaze at
reminding you of the support in the surround
can shape, at last, in the wet red clay
held by your praying hands-
Grandmothers, Come to me…
Where lies
26 Sunday Aug 2018
If a push,
somewhere a pull.
Where taken,
pray it has been given.
The Western sense of community..
in itself a paradox?
We’re part–everyone–of centuries of history
cycling, tumbling, molasses-thick onward
with nanosecond “advances.”
No mystery that you, and you, and I
can not seem to catch our breath.
Faster is not forward,
as bigger not better, nor more money success.
Where lies the soul stuff making life
Life?
Now
01 Wednesday Aug 2018
He slams the door behind him.
You think, Good riddance!
When next your heart stops and breath catches,
out comes a gasp, What have I done?
Melting down, falling to bits, the world goes
from complete sense to non-sense,
and it is on that iceberg of moment
(and each drifting ice island following)
when wondering, Is this true?
might most gather you back together in a form
strong enough,
wise enough
to hold all the sensations and feelings
threatening to tear you to pieces
to be with Now,
an actual fullness of Life
for which you have the grandest capacity.
Where is your Beauty?
31 Tuesday Jul 2018
Where is your Beauty?
Surely not
in the new shoes, fresh haircut,
expensive manufactured perfume or
endless product
product
product
pushed, hawked, manipulated into your brain
tinkering with insecurities secret and unspoken.
Your Beauty,
your Beauty! exists. Period. No one sells it to you,
convinces you of it, holds it over you, or
wants you solely because of it-
that sort is no kin of Beauty, but mere poison.
The posh tie, synthetic cologne, hippest beard or band-
they’ll not birth Beauty either.
No mask is She. Neither bought nor sold,
She is spark, and giggle, dance step and honest stumble.
She is inspiration,
your in-spiring moment to moment.
Nurture these and Beauty rises, rises,
a river filling thirsty banks longing
to sing her praises.
Come back
05 Thursday Jul 2018
In search of meaning
but having to pay the bills.
Needing to matter,
but busy cursing the neglected dogs keeping you awake.
Reaching, yet thick in mud,
being with a sideways mess of months of days
and snarled in the wonderment of
what, in hell, this is all about…
Coming back, returning to echoes of your own one body,
again, again, again, again,
the home your fantasy conjured
minus the straightforwardness and glitter
of safe comfortable forever there
except it is precisely that in folly
and learning and diligent removal of concept
and heavy cultural residue.
This is home, your body, waiting,
waiting
for you to come back
to what is real, always with you, and still
strangely
not known.
Symptoms
13 Wednesday Jun 2018
Aching back, pounding head,
weakening eyes, softening memory,
anger, nightmare, spasm..
Symptoms.
What loves to be complained about
over tea, through the phone,
aloud aloud somebody hear this, oh please.
Imagine turning attention around,
bear chewing his tail-
Wake to me!
Symptom becomes lotus
opening
from murky waters into light.
Manifestation of inner
to outer,
an offering
a medicine
a gift.
Pain is not for pain’s own sake.
With suffering,
we alter to listen.
Awareness reaches up,
roots down,
grows.
Writer without words
27 Sunday May 2018
Dancer
unable to dance,
Writer
without words,
Climber
minus a mountain,
What now?
Not grasping for known
while Unknown is your becoming
means finding,
and learning
a whole new way to move.
Wiggle a little,
court the formless
in this precious release
of who you believe yourself
to be.
Twenty-five years on
19 Saturday May 2018
Not until the attentive itch
do they exchange glances to mean
It’s Time.
And off we pile into the car, heading deep
into night and whatever flight waiting
with breath, rolling, in the wings.
Winding round and up and up and round
through dark and sensation
into rolled down window sweetness of valley grass and oak,
Stumbling, graceful, grit of dirt road scuffing,
spinning under 2 a.m. sky and flopping across hillsides,
the stars, sharp and grabbable,
become a spiral
spiral
spiral
as alive to be tucked in a pocket,
as hover, massive and in reach, directly overhead,
as rest in mind twenty-five years on.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 