09292019

after the dream.

i must hear the silence and not shy from its messages to my heart. 

my heart must slow down and listen to the silence. embody the images.

my heart. must.

slow down, my heart

slow down

there is a secret longing inside you

i know. i know

within the quiet murmur of morning. i sit. 

seeking to decipher something. 

to clear a path. to find a doorway. 

to make meaning of the images.

i hear you speaking to me

but you must slow down, now

slow down, my heart

you must

no. i am not lost in the dream. i am waiting.

i am listening to the sound of your voice gliding in the air.

i am waiting for the silence. 

my eyes closed. my spirit open to receive.

06012019

oceans hold history.

chronicles.

stories. narratives. accounts.

of the mind. 

of the flesh.

of blood.

of spirit.

this is how the unknown is known.

given attunement and curiosity.

given consciousness and presence.

given roots. given ground.

given foundation.

life is awareness of self
and of other.

we are all social creatures.
with-ness is existence.

05172019

this, now:

i hear you approaching

from a distance. my body

and mind don't need

this distraction.

but.

the voice of communion

enters my body and

makes my flesh

twinkle.

you touch me with 

your serenity.

my throat fills with things

that don't need to be said.

come. let's sit together

on this firm earth

and feel the sturdy fence

rubbing against our shoulder blades.

let's tighten our fists until they hurt. though,

who's hanging on to anything?

i'm not. are you?

ha!

we all have secrets.

i have secrets.

you have secrets, too.

this little sanctuary is my secret.

and this little gateway is my redemption.

04192019

treasure. treasure.

what shall i do

with this extreme of serenity?

i glide, convinced

there is something for me, and

convinced i no longer need to seek it.

i turn my hands open.

my shoulders.

my eyes.

my body moves. 

motion.

groundedness.

anchor.

drift.

i arrive.

02152019

light.

flight.

no weight on my shoulders.

no burden to hold me down.

01182019

how do we begin to have these conversations?
and, how many times must we stumble upon our own words?
i shut my eyes, a feeble effort to shut a memory down.
but, memories often refuse to play nice.

this memory will not let me be.
it moves. like a vagrant light
across a dark field.

i want to tell it, once more, to go away.
i want to tell it to freeze. cease. die.
i want to tell it things, but my tongue
won't find the words.

i wonder, in awe, at this fumbling
moment that makes me question. 
probe. criticize. rage. scream.

                g
           n
      i
s

.
     .     
           .
                 .

but.
i apologize.

smear me with your whispers, then, memory.
etch your images upon my face.

there is a sleeping river at the edge of this woods.
it waits to reconstruct the mystery of you.

i, too, wait.

taking up as much time and space 
as time and space will allow,
i leave everything... 
everyone... hanging.

nothing else matters.
nothing, dear, but you.

soon. 
we, too, will be memory.