What, then, is born?

What, then, is born

of disconnection that bleaches the Soul,

fragments Spirit and sends it flying

never to land,

to land in place where it may feed and be fed,

stoke the tender embers of Beauty herself?

What have we traded to get

things?

Things.

Paper money and all the rest, what is it

but nothing,

nothing, especially

when we make it everything and carve ourselves

and one another up

for more of it?

Call back,

Call back,

Call back yourself.

Call back every shard and ripple,

each precious drop, and voluminous chunk.

None but people bringing themselves back toward wholeness

can right this ship we share.

Please, let us remember,

let us remember all

to bring ourselves

Home again.

Singing through dawn

Coyote’s been singing through dawn,

calling sun back

from behind the mountain with quivering jaw.

She sounds young,

experimenting with her prowess.

Golden locust leaves hang silently, cold,

awaiting their restful drop.

The pale grasses sing too,

while sagebrush sustains Earth’s bass notes.

Turning of a new day can hold us,

more steadily than any mother..

we need only remember.

Yesterday

Yesterday time gulped back on itself,

this existence a beautiful nothing amongst endless

somethings.

Hearing my mother speak for the first time;

The voice of a friend long dead and gone returning

after decades.

Wind of another eon rose up, up,

rose up tickling the inside of my ears, neck, head,

vibration forgotten here, forgotten and now remembered–

How to find my way back? No.

Not back.

How to usher forth life from there,

origin of all creation

humming harmonious,

honey of blossoms never seen

but felt and heard.

Honey flowing slow, slowly, from cracks

in ancient enormity of stone.

Soon, soon

Day rises over mountains here,

between spiderweb strands and curved grass heads,

each breeze taking

more leaves toward winter.

Autumn is abrupt,

a visitor with next stop clearly on the books.

How can time be slowed when it feels gulped?

Sleep is a banging need

while what must be done must be done.

Soon, a long deep breath,

soon, soon

before the first snows…

Can’t help but

Apples are falling from their trees

spreading sweetness to the ants and the air.

I keep wishing for a horse to feed them to as we walk along.

Skunk fans her tail at my approach

and waddles into the weeds through a living cave of stem and leaf.

Sun holds to the distant side of the mountain

but warmth and light are rising.

Laughing as I scuff along, there’s coyote–

she’s wandered into the domestic zone

to sniff things out, yes, and to stir up every dog

in the neighborhood.

Yip yip and garble bark grff.

The graveyard rests out past the hollyhocks,

walking by each day settles me.

Raw, unpainted crosses, tilted

and cracked.

Rounded mounds of earth, peaceful

and heavy.

Can’t help but smell autumn this morning.

So long ago

What kind of oppression is this

for women to hate their own bodies into submission?

To tuck, flatten, cut, shape, build, color,

paint, starve, carve, feed, hide, cover, sculpt

and bind

such unique beauty and presence

to conform to something else?

For someone else?

Many are even convinced they do it

for themselves.

What, and whom, does it serve?

How long have we lied to,

hated, pushed away, contrived

and disappeared ourselves?

It goes beyond gender.

(Choose any system and look at how

we’ve turned it against ourselves.)

Ever noticed a peacock, tiger, or,

hell, a goat

do the same?

How ridiculous.

And cruel.

To what god have we bowed

when discarding the body we have been given,

one never to be created twice–not ever to be seen again–

to be wanted? appreciated? included?

Ohhhh let’s gather another tribe instead,

shake ourselves loose from those heavy chains

clamped on our wrists so long ago

we couldn’t possibly remember.

How long ago were we taught?

How long ago were we taught

to fight with our own selves,

to oppress and bind ourselves–

to be better, to be nice, to fit in, to be worthy?

To be successful, accomplished, competent?

Parents aren’t to blame, they were taught the same.

Go back and back and back. . .

and back.

It served something much larger

for us to bash down our own beating hearts and bright,

lit up eyes.

We needn’t be oppressed from out there when

we do it first from the inside.

Go to a job (what a weird requirement)

at the outlet mall so you can live.

Nursing survival fears, real and imagined,

keeps us very busy–and useful–

to systems that cut us from the land,

from the divine,

from one another.

Life has never been, will never be, easy

but isolation,

disconnection,

meaninglessness

are the poisons we serve our own bodies and minds

when chasing and begging for pieces of paper.

Currency.

And the fear of not having enough, or

losing what we have,

ties us in

to beliefs and habits and conditioning

that make television the closest thing

to mother’s milk that we can reach.

Or the bottle.

Nothing is wrong with you. Nothing is wrong with me.

Nothing is wrong with us.

But something is wrong with wedging our precious selves

into tiny spaces, tiny perspectives, tiny versions

at the breath-stealing expense

of our own inborn radiance.

Wind blows a chorus

Wind blows a chorus in the mountains.

I’d forgotten how the trees sing in rounds,

sometimes whispering,

sneaking a song, suddenly, behind you

then switching far out in front, down the hardscrabble

with its abundant life of stone and tiny leafings,

scales and flitting feathers.

I wonder about the songs echoed

from those not swishing needles and branches.

What part of the rondo do our human ears miss?

How sweet to offer our voices back

to the heart of the mountain

by joining in its steep and generous sound.

Walking the long road

Cracked earth and fallen cottonwood twigs,

bare branches sweep the sky.

Walking the long road, heavy trucks rumble away,

away up dry hill.

Mountains embrace this flat place,

mud walls embrace the people.

Shuffling along wooden sidewalks

with a strange highway straight through the heart of town,

I am a fish out of water.

The dust that settles behind my scales,

lines deepening in dryness,

may show its true face yet and whisper

a magic too quiet

for a busy brain to hear.

A slowing grows

and this fish can sense that breath is still possible

where the sun shines continuously

and rain gathers in the prayers

of the ones living here.

With ceremony

With ceremony comes the sweat

and all the questions of what to leave behind.

Set down your pain in recognition

that that heavy visitor, with tricks up its sleeve,

is simply

the pain,

looking for an identity.

If you’ve offered it one, you’ll know

because the pain has moved in and set up house,

happily snuggled behind a breast bone, or deep in the pelvis,

grateful to be held there in perpetuity.

The pain stays.

Suffering of any or every kind,

the pain translates easily from heartbreak

to backache–

ache being the tone of its song.

Pain will keep singing,

and your mouth is the one it uses

as if the voice belongs to you.

There are guests who need to be kicked out of the house,

might the pain be one of yours?