10 Monday Feb 2014
With fluid reach
cypress hold both the sun
and gathering birds, giving audience
to dawn.
Union comes alone
not in the company of thought,
thought anchored by convenience-
convenient right and wrong, reliable should and shouldn’t..
No and Union hear infinitely different music.
Moving to what the oak and crow listen to,
freedom arrives,
the controls of ethics not limiting the ability
to discern the sound of light and
feel the texture of color
painting the day.
09 Sunday Feb 2014
.Storm sessions of the mind.
Sight of one we had walked with
hand in hand
suddenly contorts our face in revulsion.
One whose breath we shared
becomes the reason we spin
alone without sleep.
One whose laughter joined ours
we now shake a finger at.
The rain gathers
the pressure drops
the seas rise..
become the column of rock
unquestioning of itself
joyous to receive the downpour
and crashing glacial blue waves
that wash and sculpt it
into a singular masterpiece
We are not two,
but One.
09 Sunday Feb 2014
Posted in Uncategorized
≈ Comments Off on on falling..
falling isn’t a problem
impact is
and, even more, our fear of it
falling’s nothing but uncontrolled flight
we test our wings
our strength
our skill, the elements, and belief
in ourselves
what, really, would we be
without falling?
and how much of the sky
would we miss
without reaching?
07 Friday Feb 2014
Posted in Uncategorized
≈ Comments Off on Could be
When the question comes,
What’s wrong with you?
Could be,
Nothing at all.
07 Friday Feb 2014
Posted in nature, poems, poetry, Uncategorized
≈ Comments Off on Sentinels
up from the wet ground
atop the twisted arms of cypress
two crows
sway
on needled fingers
brushing the sunrise..
with their black cutouts of sky
they look my way
not bookends
but sentinels
my returned greeting
a blush of recognition
07 Friday Feb 2014
Posted in lovers, pain, quotations, ramblings, work
≈ Comments Off on Darkness courting dawn
“The lover never despairs
For a committed heart
everything is possible”
Rumi
What is it to remind people of the pain they fear by squarely facing your own?
What is it to love someone beyond the limit of their self-love and watch them turn and walk away?
Our love is only as safe as the tender skills of our lovers to love themselves are developed.
Unbounded living begins with that embrace. The profound joy of existence starts with us, the one we’re always with.
We are the best we’ve got. Better learn to be our full, exquisite selves. No other reason to be here, really. For not until we reach that free, present, loving place can we truly be loved, nor can we give the gifts each of us is here to give.
Here’s to healing ourselves.
With a nod of delight to the world, let the real work begin.
06 Thursday Feb 2014
06 Thursday Feb 2014
Posted in abundance, gratitude, poems, poetry, Uncategorized
≈ Comments Off on Having not known Want
Having not known want.
Desire, yes.
Longing,
for year after early year.
But needs unmet,
definitely not,
except
when it came to the intangible.
And for those needs to be filled I dug
and scraped
howled out
climbed towards
cooked up
excised and wound-dressed
myself.
Skills built by me
for me,
with generous allies coming and going,
allowing this wayward spirit
to be, finally, available
to the rest of life,
hopefully,
as one sharing inspiration
with the wild
06 Thursday Feb 2014
Posted in death, fearlessness, poems, poetry, Uncategorized
≈ Comments Off on Utter Fearlessness
i stare at death directly
no barriers between us
blond predator eyes staring,
mine equally fiery, flashing
total dissolution
when and where we merge
i don’t care
every day is life or death
the strangely ignored baseline
i’m stripped to bone
and nothing
except breath
separates us,,
in this death i now face
beyond it i see
utter fearlessness
05 Wednesday Feb 2014
Posted in poems, Uncategorized
≈ Comments Off on kicking shadows down the road
New rain smell
falling
through the open window-
no more kicking shadows
down the road.
No slant of light
to shed them
with drop after drop after
drop
the clouds empty
for this thirsty land
to sip, no
gulp,
in the rare
and precious
openness of the receiving.
