in darkness
we may reach out for another
yet none but ourselves can reach in
to touch the loneliest trembling parts
asking
to be remembered
asking
28 Thursday Jan 2016
Category Archives: work
Undertow
25 Monday Jan 2016
Between here and there
a stumble-
regret, fear, misunderstanding-
and dark becomes a sinkhole,
sky sucking through earth.
The holding fire remains in shadow,
seemingly doused,
for a time
while overhead and underfoot tangle
grip and pull
the many faces of you alone.
In a panic-replacing sigh,
a morning stretch and a here-we-go
momentum of lost space stirs
rich waters.
Silent sparks rise-
a new something takes form.
The undertow may carry promise yet…
Calling:
21 Thursday Jan 2016
an offering
a prayer
an echo of love
a falling a catching a gathering
a print in the sand.
this is not a doing
a fixing
a changing, opposing, a push.
against by nature creates more of the same.
seeing the gateway in unbroken wall,
that is the way.
Full circle view
13 Wednesday Jan 2016
walking a path
moments arise
when the ground underfoot
disappears,
a little free fall
gives new vision
upside
down
isn’t
right side up
unless
it happens enough
to be forgotten..
with full circle view
one becomes whole in the turning
Them
11 Monday Jan 2016
The sensitives,
the permeable, the dancers, the strong,
knowers of medicine,
open-eyed dreamers,
familiars of the taste of tears,
hearts wounded in ache of loss
buoyantly loving all the same..
whose laughter is song,
whose feet go bare,
who chew leaves and talk with hawks,
whose ocean tides move both blood and moon,
ones as fiery in temperament as in flame,
courtiers of the unknown,
inviters of ancestors,
those who were a problem, a scapegoat,
an assigned patient…
The sensuous.
Creators and celebrators of beauty.
The manifest.
You.
Come.
We will follow the dark of our bodies
along serpentine trails
into growing light.
*with special thank you to James Hillman.
A third
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.
From here
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.
Borderlands
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.
Each day
29 Sunday Nov 2015
The rock,
the dense coldness you carry, can’t put down,
shift endlessly hoping
for a more comfortable position-
that stone you think is solely yours
as it mopes and drags and cautions and weighs and snivels,
all while closeting the real pain?
Think it belongs to you?
Turn your head,
look back down the line.
Greet your inheritance.
It is simply your time.
Now, begin the work-
call forth the generations of people
whose blood you share, and
who’ve given you each celestial day
to awaken again.
Until now
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.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 