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Archive for June, 2025

On Waking


 
 
Do you, too, love the time between dream and day
when we are gauzy and diaphanous,
more sky than clay, more the spiral than DNA,
love those moments before you remember
your name, before you remember the guns
and the bombs and the lines we have drawn
around right and wrong, before you remember the fingers
we point and those pointed at us and the blame
we shove back and forth. Even now, midday,
if, still, we close our eyes and breathe,
we can almost return to the innocence of it,
can almost feel the weightlessness, the wildness,
the generous knowing of being without measure,
without border, without label, without should.
Imagine we could meet in that undefined space,
that liminal, boundaryless place. All of us nameless
at the very same time. It wouldn’t last. The alarm
always rings. But what if when we all emerge,
some of that spaciousness would cling to us
as we make coffee. Open the door. Drive the car.
Say hello. What would we make of the news?

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after a dry spell
the long awaited song of rain—
even my dreams listen

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Going Quantum



 
I almost expect the rain
to fall through me. That is how
porous it all feels sometimes.
 
If sorrow and joy
and fear pass through,
why not rain?
 
When drops gather today
on my arm, I stare at them,
amazed how they round on bare skin.
 
I want to let it all pass through.
At the same time I want to be solid
in the world so I might open my mouth to rain
 
and become part rain. Might open
my heart to love and become all love.
Want to feel myself held by the holy
 
and know I have never not been holy.
Want to hold the rain in my hand
and marvel how a woman so porous
 
can hold in her palm a miracle.

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