Saturday, October 20, 2012

What I Always Want:





To be in a state
Of sparkles on water,
A state of ice-skate freedom,
A state of golden grains of sand
Encircling toes spread wide,
In the whole of it,
The thick of it,
While knowing it.

As heels go from digging in
To feeling lifted upward, 
Seeing the beauty in,
The shifting constant.
The bridge spanning,
The heart and the mind,
Holding the tension between
Falling and flying.

Fathomless depths to discover
About the other that is I.
The loneliness expanding out,
To the crevice, the precipice,
The Soul Wolf kind,
The guides in the abyss,
Who are verified so strongly
When searching for the missed.

And staying, still,
In a state of bliss.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

The Third Day of Fasting (from 7/29/12)

Divine love.
For the chainsaws, the unwanted machines.
Divine love.
For the cow's jurassic bellows.
Divine Love for the chaos.
For Divine Love is in it too.
Divine Love.
For the transient silence.
For the birdsong.
For the chipmunk chatter.
Divine Love is the sun on my back.
Is the piling of timber,
And the engines resuming their attack.
Divine Love,
Is the pine bowing over my body,
Ushering me into this not-knowing phase.
Divine Love,
Is the intuition to stay.
To let grace into this place.


Camping on the Chama (written 6/30/12)

How quiet the night,
Spent in the tent,
On riverbank and moonlight,
Rising to sunspeak and birdsong,
Lying down on earth and ant work,
A floating family of geese,
Coming to rest when water slows.
Loose leaf tea thoughts,
Flowing downstream too.
Me, unseen, but observing.
Weaving space for todays gifts,
Both giving and receiving.

Poem to the Child (written 6/6/12)

I grew up building rose-tinted towers
To peer at the outside from.
I grew up with a blind sage for a father,
And a mother who painted
The World in strokes of color.
My Life ran on make believe,
Fueling more efficiently than gasoline.
Foggy days in summer time,
Blizzards in winter wonderland,
Turning wet tree stumps
Into magician playmates,
Mossy beards and mystery hands.
The prompt is fading fast,
Whenever I'm not dreaming.
To honor the dreams of dreams
Of the child from my past.