23 Friday Oct 2015
we open,
creation flickers appreciative eyes
knowing it may express itself through us
and bring a union of hearts-
small reminders of what binds us to life, place, and
one another.
hear the songs
of light, color, sound and page,
whose voices crack through lies
separating us
from the unchanging.
21 Wednesday Oct 2015
The imprint of the dream,
a sudden waking
a gasp
an “oh my god” and
you return
to the surface
from a who-knows-where and
a deep
dive
down
carrying now
a dancing fish.
Upon the glass, a reflection.
Through the glass, a being.
Beyond the glass-
a destination calling you forth.
Without end
begins
with accepting the task
that brought you here.
12 Monday Oct 2015
For the shes,
for the women who held in reserve everything but
what they betrayed in the fathoms of their eyes,
I dance for you,
let my laid-down hair fly
and skin sweat rivers
underarm and between thigh.
My laugh is the wild thing you withheld
and the leap it was never safe
for you to take.
The salt this body gives up,
one gift I can give.
Carry me to where your bones rest,
I’ll bring the skull I’ve been handed
when calling guides from the directions.
You’ve yet to reach my dreams
but when you do
I know
your unpinned hair will be the least
of what you bring to night sleep.
30 Wednesday Sep 2015
For those running running,
forget holding onto your hat-
that which has you trying to flee,
with its tangles and barbs and gashes and claws,
can outrun you
and knows every shortcut
to come out ahead
again
and again and again..
Face what you plead with silently
to go away
Return return
Hold onto your heart instead.
That intricate webbing of blood coursing its way
through all of you,
into toes, and eyelids, and knees.
Your heart, you,
the one constant partner-
wrap tender fingers around the unwanted.
For those working through terror,
For those tending to their rage,
For those who turn, who return-
Your life is yours.
12 Saturday Sep 2015
While hands rest on sink edge
and skin drips above dirty bowls,
eyes see wall and window and trees in view
of an idea
who drops in,
pulls as much space
as a full day gathers snow,
and says,
Your wound is their wound is a wound
far-reaching with cold, gnarled underground fingers.
Hold the hand you fear,
befriend the dead.
Bring here of the gifts
your people await release.
Possess the expanse
and embody the unspoken…
Hearing the music of you
in a flooding of my entirety,
more life rises in death
than even a painting of night
could dream.
26 Sunday Jul 2015
In the dark,
long-term watching.
Blackness rests eyes, brightens
imagination.
Tip into a curve
of ear and mind.. soundlessly
whispers rise and define,
even foretell.
Clarity-
a distant brass bell-
and color emerge,
erasing all penitent dreaming.
Within a container extending
far
into day,
light continually bears witness.
16 Tuesday Jun 2015
05 Friday Jun 2015
Events arise and show you
you can be made of jello-
in some especially unreasonable flavor like kiwi-
and your mind starts spinning and nothing is working and
everything seems wrong and
you’re busted, no broken, no worse
and
and
on and on and on
until
you stop believing,
look around,
recall that you’re breathing
in a flowering burst of recognition
that you simply
have
more to heal.
24 Sunday May 2015
He sits,
this man in his garden,
on an upturned bucket
in the afternoon shade of an olive tree,
smoking a cigarette.
His downward gaze surveys lines
of young plants, his recent work,
and plucks whatever potential-
of lazy thought
of future harvest
of aches, of history-
of each inhalation in his own world
where bees hover
to take him in.
01 Friday May 2015
Ground zero,
the epicenter,
the war zone-
violence, hatred and calamity
grow equally outward as inward.
Peace workers lace up worn boots
to enter the dust and rubble
and walk inner landscapes to aid survivors.
Skilled visitors to the battleground
staunch blood of the willing
and keep it from spilling on real soil.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 