22 Wednesday Apr 2015
Her bones
fall into mine.
Her fight, her grief,
her bite,
in my arms, my legs, this heart,
are embraced.
She lost footing, at last,
giving up land for the sea.
There I swim,
offering her resting place,
and the tender hold
she has hungered for
all along.
12 Sunday Apr 2015
He always shows up uninvited.
And closed doors don’t slow him in the least.
(It’s like that when you haven’t a face,
a body
or a name.)
His approach sinks your belly like a battleship,
and ushers in a near silent gasp-
“Oh no.”
To which,
were anyone else to hear and wonder,
you’d deny ever uttering.
So you reach for a bottle,
and the volume button,
also the telephone, the tv and a book-
none of which can you pay any attention to,
breath having suspended upon his arrival
in singular focus:
that of prey.
And how, possibly, to get away…
Consider the difference
were you to put down the glass,
smile at the kids still out playing frisbee in the yard,
take a seat, look at him
and say,
“Hello, old friend. What have you come to tell me?”
12 Sunday Apr 2015
Out into space
a finger,
wrist, forearm, shoulder, neck stretches..
nose leads forward, head tilts
into the roll taking a body
down
away from what sustains into
the craving and desire to possess that thing
that woman that car that status that
tasty morsel that cons you-
that you con yourself-
into believing
will scratch the itch, quell the hunger,
satisfy that blasted longing leaving a belly growling
every morning
a body doesn’t fall into
itSelf.
11 Saturday Apr 2015
He drives through night,
his fear,
navigating roads with poor eyesight
and the anxiety of loss.
She waits, after 30 years, to release her last breath
upon his arrival.
His mind, his hand, reach for her
through lessening miles.
Following a companionship of sorrow-
reunion comes
in rainbows of falling tears.
Movements,
these delicate movements,
carve the limitlessness of human hearts-
darkness can’t even stop that.
10 Friday Apr 2015
Rewiring a body,
what with its arms and pinkies and patellae,
in knowing hunt
of the frequency of wind
through forest tops and hillside grass
as all else quiets,
of the partnered rhythm of breaking waves and
the ocean of this heart,
of the resonance in birthing sunlight
crossing far valley hills-
These sounds our bones hum
when the clutter and reversals and dust
have been cleared
from places they never belonged.
08 Wednesday Apr 2015
A swooping line
A twisting span
A rough hollow
An angle, sharp
A smooth soft warmth
A hard jumbled stretch..
With gentle fingers, slow contact
and light gaze-
the textures of your life,
this sculpting of who you are-
each day you explore form of spirit
and shape it with the quality of
your own touch.
Make it kind.
07 Tuesday Apr 2015
Wind rocks the trees
at last.
They’ve been asking when
they’d get to dance,
and only flirtations greeted their longing.
Rain wets singing birds,
the sound enters darkened sky.
Singing in a storm-
fruition of a lifetime’s work.
The invitation is always there.
04 Saturday Apr 2015
Packs of begging children roam Delhi streets,
walk through traffic,
reach into open taxi windows-
western faces a target.
How they got there, how they are organized,
how they get by,
is undoubtedly a terrible story.
Meanwhile, there are those of us choosing
to suffer to be closer to God.
Delusion is thick if hurting that which is sacred
appears to be a requirement of the Infinite;
as if living fully the life given isn’t enough to remove
a blindness placing the gates of heaven without.
Returning our vision,
to where muscle moves blood,
and lungs exchange air, and
kindness becomes a language of its own-
there
we remember our Divinity.
In coming home,
we find refuge and
stop harming the world around us.
01 Wednesday Apr 2015
In your cringe
and bite
following another’s ignorant words,
pain.
Not the pain of a current slash of the knife
but of a gash inflicted long before self and other
stepped far enough apart to decide, even,
if they wanted to dance.
Knowing requires time,
recognition of habit a road winding into distant hills-
the shape your tears will mimic.
May strength and a giggle well up
along with each salty drop.
30 Monday Mar 2015
When rhesus monkeys come
to Dharamsala,
the cedars speak louder their wordsong
and blue green saturates sky
made milky by rains.
Taking coffee at a bistro table and
looking up to catch eyes looking down–
Moonpeak behind and unwalked horizon ahead–
wedding pen to paper becomes
a most important act.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 