Posts Tagged ‘power’

One Beginning

so spindly
these seedlings
that will soon feed hundreds

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Kindness went out and got itself

a new engine—a four-hundred horsepower

twin turbo 3.3 liter V-6 engine.

Something with real oomph.

Something that provides a bit of giddy-up

when the loving gets tough. Turns out

kindness likes horsepower.

A lot of horsepower. Plus it sprung

for direct fuel injection to maximize

its power output. Everyone thinks

kindness prefers things quiet and calm,

but kindness is ready for action—

ready to take on the world,

ready to travel every back road,

every highway, every main street

and get this ever-loving show on the road.

There’s a whole lot of loving to do.

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And if we can’t save the world,

and who says we can’t, then

let us try anyway. Perhaps

we have no superhuman powers—

can’t see through buildings,

can’t fly, can’t bend the bars of cages—

but we have human powers—

can listen, can stand up to,

can stand up for, can cradle.

And if we can’t imagine

a world of peace, and who

says we can’t, then let us

try anyway. Perhaps we start

tonight—on a Wednesday.

Thursday works, too. Or Friday.

Doesn’t much matter the day.

All that matters is the choice

to meet this moment exactly

as it is, with no dream of being

anyone else but our flawed

and fabulous very self—

and then, wholly present,

bringing this self to the world,

touching again and again what is true.

What if we do? And if we can’t

save ourselves, and who

says we can’t, let’s try anyway.

There was a time I thought

I could never be healed. That

was only because it hadn’t happened yet,

so I decided it wasn’t possible.

Healing happened anyway.

What have we decided isn’t possible?

What if we stopped believing

that limit? What if, right now,

we used our human powers

of compassion, clarity, gratitude,

praise? What if we did it together—

opened all those closed doors inside

us? What if we let the opening do

what opening does?

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and so we rise in darkness

and let our bodies move

without the blare of light.

The house is still and we

are somehow changed

by stillness, changed

by dark. As if we’ve

grown pads in our feet.

As if we are learning

a new silent language

with our limbs, a language

more graceful, more awake.

We find candles. Find

matches. Let the tiny lights

find us. For a thousand years

in Egypt, they wrote

and rewrote The Book

of Emerging Forth into the Light,

a series of writings we somehow came

to call The Book of the Dead.

All the spells were written

to help the dead person journey

through hostile forces

into the afterlife.

And this morning, we

are our only obstacles.

Still, the candles

are a bit like spells,

guiding us with their brilliant ink

toward dawn. There

are no warnings, no judgements,

no naming of evil spirits.

Only this new language

to learn with its syntax

of carbon, it etymologies

of shadow, its phonemes

of coming light.


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the world is new again,

white and blank, a page

waiting for us to write

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The two bull elk in the yard startled
when I walked out the front door.
They stared at me as I stared at them.
Though I stepped quiet and slow
in a different direction, they turned and ran
into the trees. How could they be
so frightened of me? Ah, of course.
Perhaps I am the one who does not
understand my power.

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perhaps to prove
she can change the world
my daughter stomps
on the icicle right when
my camera clicks

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