Wednesday, February 29, 2012

on this the day





on this the night before a day
borne out of necessity

a correction

i stayed at the window until midnight
feeling all the day's stories
lifting away and upwards
past sheets of moonlight
absorbed into the passing clouds
all filled with wishes
past and passing
as hopeful as God




Tuesday, February 28, 2012

eventually



pointed tongues of skywater
licking at the air




all pointing earthwards

in anticipation
of returning home



Monday, February 27, 2012

i got scared

some days i wake and wonder

will this day hold me close

will this day call me by my name

so many days
arrive



and find all sorts of ways
in which to depart

and then some stand up and fling their arms out to the side
to draw me in
fill me with their own fullness
and end with the gentlest glance-over-the-shoulder sunsets
that leave the soft ache of wistfulness
and hopefulness
all at the same time

-


"you were really saying something
when you called me by my name
let's get out in a ghost town
then you can call it out again
five years ago, half of the world disappeared
and half of my life was clear"


italicized words "starling electric" from their song "i got scared"


Sunday, February 26, 2012

bone whistle



even the wind
slows down to listen
to the hollow tapping
of their iced amber bodies


Saturday, February 25, 2012

the sky cries




i walked
i ran
i did not look back
i didn't want to
for fear
of asking for more

Friday, February 24, 2012

cracks in the shell



when there is no you
and the lies are all out

when the threads are so tangled
and the air cracks with frost
give no thought
to unknowing

fly away fly out

let go

Thursday, February 23, 2012

morning draw




the sky walks slowly out into the light of day and pulls words of gratitude from my mouth

i will swim in the racing grace of all the everythings
that will cross the dawn's river
from you to my
self

alone
no more

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

our place



we sing our songs
in bright little whispers
that touch this place
with the fingers
of hands
that wish for
the eyes of otherwise


Tuesday, February 21, 2012

the elusive spiritual moment


something in the corner
in the light the shadow's left -
a movement
a shifting

i can't look directly at it
because it will not be there
if i do

and so i glance
sideways
hoping
to catch it unawares

for surely
in its organized
and furtive clustering
i will learn a secret

i will see
what is not meant to be seen

which is i believe
why
i am here

Monday, February 20, 2012

shreds


sometimes the high winds of this world
whittle and trim
the details of us
scattering
the detritus of us
all about
and we're left looking
at the many little pieces
and wondering
and what was all this about anyway?

Sunday, February 19, 2012

darker later


last night
the darksome sky
washed
through and over me
kissing its way across
the lightbulb lit shadows
with so many excuses
i wavered
overly thoughtful and understanding
before opening
the window to let it pass
beyond the curtains
of my indecision
and off into the suddenly full
emptiness

Saturday, February 18, 2012

nicolas jaar mi mujer

on high rotation and being danced to by various members of my family and friends and students

Friday, February 17, 2012

away


they arrive and they leave
so like the beginnings and endings
of everything

a glimmer

a song sung and left to rise all on its own into the night sky
never to be seen or heard again
somehow emptying
into the fullness of a settling day

Thursday, February 16, 2012

voice


the light is falling
thin and cold
so like the emptiness
of metal



until the words
"are you coming?"
soft and orange and convincing
as any i've ever heard


Wednesday, February 15, 2012

i have a mind





i have a mind to confuse things,
unite them, bring them to birth,
mix them up, undress them,
until the light of the world
has the oneness of the ocean,
a generous, vast wholeness,
a crepitant fragrance.

pablo neruda (from "too many names")

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

it rises



It rises—passes—on our South
Inscribes a simple Noon—
Cajoles a Moment with the Spires
And infinite is gone—


Monday, February 13, 2012

the small escape of light


they race
in their soft unlikeliness
out of little tears in the sky


Sunday, February 12, 2012

snow narrowed


snow narrows the space
between the sky
and the ground

i very love
being contained
inside
that
narrowness

Saturday, February 11, 2012

guardian

steven aged two and the dog of his life a border collie named "mush"


in my memory you will always follow me and protect me and trust me and love me with your own needs so very unmet and yet somehow you knew to make your way here and lead me through this difficult place with no sense of the rewards that might come your way in this or any other lifetime . . . and i hurt you and cared less of you than myself and then your own end came prematurely and beyond your control
- if endings can ever be either mature or within our control -

and i wonder . . .
i wonder where you returned to and what you are and why
. . . . but i still love you so as you are. . . .
in my heart

Friday, February 10, 2012

the sweet and soft space


there's a sweet and soft space that calls to me
a whispered presence
a glance perhaps even a touch
a reassurance
that doesn't so much pull as it draws me closer
by default
by desire
a mouth that parts just so
eyes that crease
with the words . . .
'i've been here a while
waiting ...
waiting so long and then also so very much not so long
because i know nothing of time
and yet
i'm so glad to see you back
so very glad
so very ....."

Thursday, February 9, 2012

my chair


there's a chair
in this house
and the sweet glowing arc
of its frame
speaks to me
of jungles
and beautiful bare backs
even as i sit
layered deep
and hidden
from the world
beyond the windows

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

approaching the day with intention


1. this song this dance this spinning around of the spirit inside -
even in my sleep
i can feel it's hands reaching out and grabbing at the cloaks of me
and i can feel those hands pulling the whirling shadow-softened robes in tight
to my lonely frame
and i'll call that "waking up
and looking around
and counting my blessings
and holding them as close as i dare"

2. "hold still" croaks the crow as i pour past his sitting place in the early morning light
which is as thin as i'm thin
and this day i feel so old i feel so coldly old
layered and coddled by the words
that tumble mumbling from my own mouth
and addressed to no one in particular
something about "always looking for something more, or other"
and i'll call that "crossing from my inner to my outer world
across a bridge of my daily making and design"




Tuesday, February 7, 2012

tenderness

,

i made my home amidst this human bustle
yet i hear no clamour from the carts and horses.
my friend, you ask me how this can be so?
a distant heart will tend towards like places.
from the eastern hedge,
i pluck chrysanthemum flowers,
and idly look towards the southern hills.
the mountain air is beautiful day and night,
the birds fly back to roost with one another.
i know that this must have some deeper meaning,
i try to explain, but cannot find the words.

drinking wine tao qian

Monday, February 6, 2012

blue crystal fire

arborea's take on the beautiful song written by robbie basho

Sunday, February 5, 2012

midwinter


the lights

the very little
coloured lights

all gather
here
in this
very white
desert

Saturday, February 4, 2012

still


there's a temptation
to fall inside
your fingers
if only to feel them
holding my face


Friday, February 3, 2012

each day


in the morning
they draw closer
for the simple pleasure
of being near each other

Thursday, February 2, 2012

silver chants



upon the spires
silver

chants the litanies



words excerpted from stinging
by e.e. cummings

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

more


everything
in these dry thin
husks and bones

holds summer in their form

the pale crystals -
a simple promise