What could be more
important today
than falling in love?
Look at you, with
your list of reasons,
your itemizations,
your tallies, your shoulds,
your predictions.
Walk away from
your accountings
and smell the river.
See the water ouzel
flit and bob spritely
from stone to stone,
as if traveling
from heart to heart.
Look at her diving
beneath the surface.
You don’t need
a poet to tell you
that’s a fine metaphor.
You don’t need
to squint your eyes
or tilt your head sideways
to see this is
the right time of light
for loving. Everything
is golden, my god,
even you, you
with your lists,
your inventories,
your records.
You don’t even have
to lose them
to be beautiful.
There you are,
golden, chosen
by the light, reports
and shoulds and all.
And still, such a hard sell,
this falling in love
business, as if
it will hurt, well,
you’re right about
that. Everything
you love outside
yourself will be
lost. You will break
and it will be a mess
but you will be
in good company.
Even those lists
you say you love
will leave you.
Might as well
give them a toss
on your own.
The river will take
them, no questions
asked. And in this
light, imagine
how they will shine
as they ride the waves
around the bend.
But in a light
like this it’s only
a matter of time
before you notice
how everything
shines, and surrounded
by so much beauty,
even the muck wears
a glimmer, what is
there to do but break?
God it’s messy already,
we’ve only just started,
might as well follow
that ouzel in the river
and cold as it is
dive right in.
Archive for June, 2013
That Time of Light
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged letting go, life, light, love, opening, poem, poetry on June 12, 2013| 5 Comments »
One Morning
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged allowing, community, letting go, peace, poem, poetry on June 11, 2013| 3 Comments »
One morning
we will wake up
and forget to build
that wall we’ve been building,
the one between us
the one we’ve been building
for years, perhaps
out of some sense
of right and boundary,
perhaps out of habit.
One morning
we will wake up
and let our empty hands
hang empty at our sides.
Perhaps they will rise,
as empty things
sometimes do
when blown
by the wind.
Perhaps they simply
will not remember
how to grasp, how to rage.
One morning
we will wake up
and we will have
misplaced all our theories
about why and how
and who did what
to whom, we will have mislaid
all our timelines
of when and plans of what
and we will not scramble
to write the plans and theories anew.
On that morning,
not much else
will have changed.
Whatever is blooming
will still be in bloom.
Whatever is wilting
will wilt. There will be fields
to plow and trains
to load and children
to feed and work to do.
On that morning,
in every action, we will
feel the urge to say thank you,
we will follow the urge to bow.
Six Blurrings
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged loss of self, love, poem, poetry, tanka on June 10, 2013| 2 Comments »
which
is
which
my hand
your heart
*
last year’s snow
rushes through
the valley—
some lonelinesses
can not be quenched
*
what is
the one
that notices
the one who thinks
she feels lonely?
*
in my pages
rubbing an arnica leaf
out of the blank
appears
a heart of graphite
*
in a red wagon
the old man
pulls to the grave
his mother
her ashes
*
I refuse
to see it
as a problem
loving
you
Two Stillnesses
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged haiku, poem, poetry on June 9, 2013| 2 Comments »
Kneeling in tall grass
I know nothing except
kneeling in tall grass
*
in her tiny nest
the tiny hummingbird
how huge my eyes
What I Would Bring You
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged love, nature, poem, poetry, presence, unknowing on June 8, 2013| 4 Comments »
Flood of lupine,
break of green,
door of sage
and yes of rain,
dandelion,
gold then wish,
home of river
bridge of breath,
silk of crow,
and lung of seed
hummingbirds
and rave of blood,
wave of kingfisher,
shy of know,
arms of blue
and moon of now,
gaze of peony,
ungauze of love,
heron wing, heron wing,
moon enough.
Two Facts
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged end of the world, fussiness, poem, poetry on June 7, 2013| 4 Comments »
I would hate
for it to be
tonight, tonight
when I am fussy
and obstinate, I would hate
for it to be the end
of the world
tonight. Thus far
the suggestion
of a potentially imminent
massive earthquake
or crashing meteor
or flood due to the
last scrap of
the ice cap melting
is not sufficient
to make me smile
just for the sake
of ending it nice.
I’m not saying
I didn’t notice
the sunset
tonight, all
pink and deep
purple and
leaking spectral light.
I’m just saying
I’m fussy. And
the world will
end. And thorny
as I am, I am hoping
it isn’t tonight.
Gretel Talks to the Birds
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged birds, fairy tale, hansel and gretel, happiness, poem, poetry on June 6, 2013| 3 Comments »
Of course you thought
we were feeding you.
What else would we be doing
with that old, hard bread.
You were, just as we were,
only thinking of survival.
We were all so hungry then.
There’s a woman here
in Happily Ever After who
feeds poison to the birds.
She says the birds peck
at her red ripe cherries,
and where is the happily
in that? So she hides
the poison in Wonder bread
and then spreads it on the ground.
I’m telling you
this as your friend. Stay in
the woods. Happiness is not
all as it looks.
After Talking with Joi about the Last Few Days
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Amma, Joi Sharp, poem, poetry, truth on June 5, 2013| 3 Comments »
You should long for the truth like a drowning man longs for air.
—Amma
Laying face down in a puddle,
a woman might think
she is drowning.
She could, in fact,
drown, though anyone
around her can see
all she need do
is roll over.
How many puddles
have we lain in,
lips to the pavement,
eyes closed, feeling
the million points
of panic rising in our lungs,
shrugging off the hands
that would help us,
caught in the drama
of our own doom,
flailing, thrashing.
drowning.
What saves us,
even if we manage
to roll onto our backs,
is never ourselves
but the air rushing in
to fill us, the air rushing in
as if it longs for us
the way we long for it.
Sometimes a Chance
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, present, sleep on June 4, 2013| 6 Comments »
Laying beside
someone asleep,
listen to their tide
of breath. They
are like shells
held to your ear,
reminding you
how we come
from the sea.
Put up your sails
and travel here
in the morning’s
small dark hours.
Never mind you can’t
read the currents.
Never mind you
can’t remember
your name or how
you got here,
how to get home
or why you came.
There are no
anchors. No
horizons. The
waves are never
quite the same.
As Accurate As I Can Say
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged failure, life, non-doing noticing, perfection, poem, poetry on June 3, 2013| 2 Comments »
I came here to fail.
To fall. To miss.
To screw up.
To backfire.
To founder.
To lose. To come
to nothing.
Ah. Now
we’re getting
somewhere.
I am here and
I am everywhere
but here. I am
a mess—precisely.
I am yours and
owned by no one.
I am no so and so.
If it could be any
other way, it would
be. But it
is like this.
Oh thank you world
a hundred hundred
times for this chance
to stumble, to lurch,
to slip.