Posted in Uncategorized, tagged gift, patience, poems, poetry, possibility, silence, words on March 12, 2012| 5 Comments »
In silence
everything
is possible.
Our words,
enwombed,
could become
honey,
could sprout wings,
or (imagine)
could shape themselves
as just the right words
that fall out at just
the right time.
Or, perhaps,
it’s that silence
does the work
that words
can’t do,
linking us
to nothing,
which is
everything.
I give you
silence.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged allowing, haiku, patience, poems, poetry, spring on March 11, 2012| 3 Comments »
eruption of crocuses—
that old brittle oak leaf still
not ready to fall
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged allowing, moon, not knowing, poems, poetry, poetry video, what is on March 10, 2012| 10 Comments »
Tired and cold
she came to a clearing
beside the river
and set herself down.
There, the moon.
The moon.
*
Not once had she dreamed
to bring the moon any closer.
Not once had she wished
it would move any faster.
*
How to stay in this place
of not wanting
not needing
not wishing
not hoping
not reaching, not knowing.
*
At the edge of whatever
she thought she knew
she leaned
until the only thing
touching her
was nothing.
*
Sometimes a story
ends. Sometimes it
plays again. Sometimes
we see through a story
to see ourselves.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged freedom, healing, poems, poetry, self-defeating behavior, spiritual growth, suffering, tanka on March 8, 2012| 3 Comments »
these scars on my arm?
I used to walk my hell with me
everywhere on a leash
and let it bite me sometimes
just to be sure it still hurt
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged love, non-judgment, poems, poetry, stories, tanka, unity on March 8, 2012| 4 Comments »
I drop
these stories
of who and how—
every barrier between us
crumbles
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged death, life, poems, poetry, soul on March 7, 2012| 6 Comments »
At dinner, I heard
about those in a tribe who,
as they die, will tie
around the dying one’s finger
a string long enough
to reach the sea. The other end
is attached to a boat
to carry away the soul.
I have wanted such a string,
not for when I am dead,
but for when I am alive,
something to secure me
to that most intangible part
of myself, as if it could be lost.
Perhaps the string would be less tether
and more reminder
that that distant land
wherever it is we go when we’re gone
is a lot closer than I think,
close enough that it’s probably
even now touching where the soft frayed ends
would be dangling so near my finger tip.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged 84, light, loss of separate self, poems, poetry, radiance, unity on March 6, 2012| 4 Comments »
stepping
into the morning sun
oh and oh!
so sweet to be
reminded
my own light
so little
and not
even
mine
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged gravity, happiness, laughing at the self, poems, poetry, skiing, surrender on March 5, 2012| 3 Comments »
Gravity, I adored you today,
the way you led me from the top of the mountain
to lower down. The clear rush of it all,
the thrill of velocity, the giving in
to forces greater than ourselves
and learning there to play.
What a sweet oxymoron,
the more mass we have, the faster
we go, and with this heart so weighted
I was surely more lickety-split
than ever before, and felt it, too,
the shocking lightness,
the reminder that all of us,
all of us are in it together,
at the mercy of this draw,
this tug, this gravity that brings us
down, down, down, wheeeeeeee down
humbled and even laughing.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged 84, darkness, freedom, independence, light, poems, poetry, radiance on March 3, 2012| 4 Comments »
It was dim
then
starless
who would guess
this was a gift
now whatever path
there is
is lit
by my own
light
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged 84, hope, inspiration, light, poems, poetry, radiance, thermodynamics on March 3, 2012| 1 Comment »
Even the tiniest
coldest
most distant
atoms
in the universe
release
light
my dear one
it is not
so dark
*
*
This is the first in a series of 84-character poems on radiance, one of the 11 powers of the universe that Brian Swimme outlines in EnlightenNext. He writes, “In my view, the power of radiance is an expression of the mysterious way in which the universe cannot contain the magnificence it houses. Instead, it is compelled to express itself in ten million different ways.”
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged acceptance, allowing, poems, poetry, snow, surrender on March 1, 2012| 3 Comments »
They are ladders,
I tell myself, the snowflakes,
and I could climb them
until the small white yard
disappears in the white, white land.
No, I tell myself,
they are kisses,
millions and millions
of small cold kisses.
No. They are voiceless bells
reminding us to come to pray.
Or lightness manifest. Or curtains
to hide our loss. Or perhaps,
I consider, they are
nothing more than snow,
just as a day is just a day,
and a woman is just a woman,
though sometimes she looks outside
of herself for a sign, looks for meaning
in the spaces between the flakes,
as if a drift or gust or squall might mean, well,
it all slips away.
One thing for certain, I am one
of many. One thing for certain.
I am not lost. I am here
leaning into the windswept snowflakes, falling,
and the field I’m in is a field, open and white.