14 Saturday Jun 2025
Posted in approaching, change, community, connection, dissolution, generations, heart, Life, movement, poems, poetry, world
≈ Comments Off on Wannabe king
Wannabe king parades in,
bare butt flapping in the wind, saying,
My clothes are the finest in the world–
in all the worlds–
simply gaze upon them,
My apparel line, starting price 10 million,
will launch this fall.
The people hear, but more, they
see
his paunch of arrogance and delusion
while the gun salutes shoot off,
polluting collective sky.
The people march, no king, the people gather,
no thanks, no king for us today.
05 Thursday Jun 2025
Posted in liberation, motionless, movement, mystery, poems, poetry, void
≈ Comments Off on Contained
Serpentine movements toward
and away
based on nothing the culture expects,
impatiently demands,
only,
toward yes, warmth,
away from no, cold, mostly
in suspension,
blind,
asking,
when, lordy, when, and
is this my failing or some cosmic barometric pressure
holding
holding
heavy lid to the dark pot before,
until,
that heat can no longer stand but rise, fragrant,
a refusal of being contained,
twisting into an arcing freedom of sky.
04 Wednesday Jun 2025
Bumblebee on French lavender,
fuzzy turning sideways heavy delightful
flight,
rest, wander,
another one alights,
purple, grey green waving;
a lovely warm night watering
the funny patch of weedy garden.
01 Sunday Jun 2025
Critters chasing through high trees,
squirrels limb to limb and birds,
in flight, one to another to another,
and the song,
songs,
braiding on the wind,
wind gathering applause of soft and hardening
oak leaves,
dark, thick, fresh to the season,
and I,
far into the unsettling,
year of the unsettled,
take counsel:
keep faith, drop the choking self-doubt,
open back up, out, into Spirit–
no flower is itself
without
loss,
loss of safety’s deceit.
Nothing guarantees certainty but
betraying yourself for mere
survival.
That rushing in?
Trust it.
10 Saturday May 2025
I draw nearer the Unknown.
How can I not,
to be closer to God is this;
Unknown–true Creation.
Not noble or shiny, maybe missing teeth,
limping, dusty and brilliant..
Stay close,
the past can not play out forever,
only mind does that,
read the signs, look for what’s different,
if, at a thought, ice fills your blood
and belly turns sour,
power has been tossed away.
Relax back into change,
those arms wait to hold you,
the generosity of a reliable and beloved friend.
Ride the horse.
05 Monday May 2025
Bees have buried themselves
in crab apple’s blooms,
hummingbird launches skyward,
chattily, all the frills of mating on display.
Stripey-legged bobcat’s ghostly moves
stitch the garden knoll
while anise hyssop digs into her new home
and calendula flowers at hollyhock’s feet.
Everybody’s humming their song…
26 Saturday Apr 2025
The Mountain meets the clouds,
the Mountain stands on the other side
of the world.
Moving your feet, left
then right,
muscles flex, breath rushes in
then out..
you are fire,
heart pumping,
you are water,
blood rivering through,
you are air,
lungs bellowing,
you are earth,
bones holding, levering, building.
Shoes crease, then crack,
soon tear,
body aches,
mind strains.
You can journey to the Mountain
on two feet, on all fours, on belly
with hands clawing along.
You can also sit–
the depths required, the same–
whatever territory that needs be traversed
travels with you,
rests with you,
sleeps within you,
requires the all of you.
Awake.
The Mountain is close at hand.
04 Friday Apr 2025
How tangled we are
in the journey back to God,
the ever-winding, no two ways the same,
trial and error, washing the mirrors
of our own perceptions, struggles and joys of it.
But your way and my way, they quiver the web,
shimmer the web of which all
is part.
My awakening is your awakening
and back again,
waves of the One ocean
mothering every being, each singular thing,
into itself
again.
Nature recognizing its true nature,
life falling into love
with Life.
Here we are,
discovering what never
wasn’t there.
How funny.
02 Wednesday Apr 2025
I begin now,
and now,
now.
I am born here,
in this,
as this,
through that.
How many times can a person be born
in a single lifetime?
Infinite births.
Unending new; we are
Creation
always attending
to the delicious upwelling
of awareness.
Ditching the stories, clearing debris
of mind
by arriving
in this eternal moment.
Just words–
meaningless–
. . . until Lived.
28 Friday Mar 2025
Posted in poetry
≈ Comments Off on Dead calm
Lost while the green ones grow,
inches shrinking daily between ground and raining sky.
I’ve set down a reasonable life
for something deemed
unacceptable.
The unguessable carving
of my river’s path.
The pressures out there
and what a life is to look like–
meaningless.
Singular urges toward Yes
are the winds at my back, yet
this is dead calm,
throwing me.
What next?
What now?
Planning might as well be building
with cracker crumbs.
So I stay, and sit, and waste the days
visited by wonderings
but, mostly, placing one foot ahead
of the other,
going no place.
Survival.
Is this it?
The doubting of an eddy.
Come next year, come next forty,
it will be revealed.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 