bounty… bounty…

the window
the porch
the door

the horizon
steeped in red and gold

my warm feet
on the cold floor

my arms
raised in celebration

my hair
surrendering to profusion

there is no want
for open eyes

it is not what is seen
that matters

but what is sensed
inside the core



another mindful serendipity...

morning chimes.
grace unravels.

i spill myself like ink
inside this open vessel.



the air is dressed in a hint of
paper, this morning, a swath of
bark, shattered and smashed.

it strains to lure me away to
another time, another place.

and while, before,
i might have said,
i will not stay your hand,

today, i sing a different song.

sitting in a mild cross-breeze
of south and west,
i know,

not even the air, with its
wiley ways, can make me
fly outside of myself.

oh, no!
not even you, air!

not even a legion of elements!



i imagine myself a book scribed
by invisible hands
chapters here and there
pages full and flowing
but for the blank page
every randomness in a while

even those empty pages
are heavy with stories
shuddering with narratives
voiding their lungs
of the perpetuity of
the false whiteness
they occupy


she said,
i feel as though
i’ve lost touch with
that chunk of my life—
those twelve years that once were,
but now no longer are.
i can’t remember any of it.
i can’t… nothing at all.

i said,
can you give flesh to
that emptiness?

she said,
i can’t.
i don’t know how.

i said,
what do you feel
inside yourself?

she said,
i feel nothing.
i feel numb.

i said,
shut your eyes and
go inside yourself.

she said,
i feel shallow. dry.
hollow as a drum.

i said,
where do you feel that?

she said,
right here. between
my rib and my heart.

i said,
what is the emotion
inside what you’re feeling?

she said,
loneliness. sadness.

pick one,
i said.

she said,
i feel fear.

make space for it,
i said,
and let it be.

she said,
i feel shame.

i said,
make space…

she said,
i feel anger.

i said,
make space…

she said,
i feel free.

i said,
the mind will forget.
the spirit will forget.
but the body will always remember.