04032013

it was the storm

that kept us awake

last night.

it was the cacophony

of ardor and danger’s

midnight dance.

how many times

must we talk about it?

how many footsteps

from moving to sensing?

how many storms?

how many sleepless nights?

how many awakenings?

04012013

another mindful serendipity...

last night the old moon dove

inside my inkpot and grinned

as the words bubbled

at the open rim

Good morning, April! Good morning, National Poetry Month!

03282013

beyond the physicality of voice

something speaks to me and says

i'm still here. still here. do you remember

me?

and i think to say

no, of course i don't

but the lie is strangled

inside my throat

beyond the embodied presence of words

is the ephemeral resonance of truth

gossamer sometimes

ephemeral (perhaps

or so we tell ourselves)

but real

and you are real

and i am real

and we are together

just like we have been

always

and yes, i do remember

you

and never let me tell you

otherwise

and on

and on

and on

we stay

03212013

as springtime arrives

night draws me

closer into her atmosphere

further from the air of day

which breathes on me and

leaves me stifled with

too much conformity

too much intensity

too much expectation

and as we are together

night and i

i pray day to observe

how we sit with one another

how we talk without speaking

how the space between us unfolds

receiving without question

delivering without condition

without asking how or why