My Sufferance

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How do I miss

what I have never known?

How can I suffer

what has never been lost?

And yet,

the heat of your absence,

or is it my own,

burns, burns

me to my soul.

I yearn, I yearn

for all the love

that has never been,

not seeing

the love that is.

9/4/16

Tormenta Tropical

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Whip and slash.

Dribble and swoosh..

The storm washes.

cleanses, erases,

Purifies,

Opens the sky to new possibilities.

Each little death,

Carries us to the next moment.

Each moment could be the last.

A tree is down.

Power lines tense and sag.

Grass swirls. and matts.

Leaves glisten and shake and swirl away.

On the beach,

Each new wave defeats the last,

As always,

Doing.

To be is to do.

To do is to be.

Waving.

Sitting inside, waiting,

Breathing,

Heart beating

with each new gust.

I storm, motionlessly

From the center of all that is,

with each new birth………

as

Rivulets run down windows

Walls tremble in the wind,

In the consuming darkness,

the rain continues to fall………..

Soon,

It will be over.

9/5/16

What We Don’t Know

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We don’t know much of what there is to know.

It’s only our egos that tell us that we do,

prideful tricksters that they are……What silly asses!

In reality, in the now,

we barely know what we need to survive in this world,.

how to be, how to relate to others, the universe,

how to love,

how to tie our own shoelaces,

and sometimes, not even that.

Much of what we think we know,

what we have learned to be true in the past,

is now false,

now only useless trivia.

Yesterday’s truths may no longer apply today.

Don’t cling to belief.

Don’t cling to knowledge.

It’s all temporary, just stuff.

Don’t get hung up on it.

Clinging only leads to stagnation.

The past is gone, never to return.

We know nearly nothing.

Get comfortable with this fact.

Have courage.

Make peace with it.

Become an empty vessel.

Allow it.

Allow for change.

Allow for the new.

Allow for the flow.

Allow for wonder.

Stay open.

Only then, can we know what we don’t know..

9/2/16

Morning Tableau Vivant

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Light flickers across the dirty tablecloth

filtered through water and leaves suspended in air moving

as the sun rises from behind the mountains of the east.

Romeo and I sit behind the window,

awakening slowly to the beat and the heat

of chachalaca wings drumming from tree to bush,

recently up from the depths,

cackling earth-mother-in-law songs,

tales of the brood,

that twine in the vapor of freshly poured coffee,

as yet, too hot to sip.

The summer grasses tingle in the crystalline breeze outside,

becoming rapidly overwhelmed by the day’s spread,

oblivious to all our thoughts and regrets of the past,

all our intentions and worries for the future.

A dove coos from somewhere distant.

A gecko flits across the aperture and catches a tired moth.

Romeo, lays in my lap, eyes reflecting mine,

and touches my lips with a flick of his little dog tongue,

proclaiming love to be more important than anything

and always just enough,

dissipating all those ancient dreams

left in the darkness

crumbling beneath the feet of the dawn,

leaving only what is

waiting on the step outside the door

of the next breath.

8/23/16

Invisible Thread

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They are not wolves,

or coyotes or jackles

with their long histories in the natural world.

A terrier or a spaniel or a hound

really has no home in that much larger place,

at least not in their present, modified form.

A wolf belongs.

He has his purpose within an ecological system,

the wilderness from which he was born,

his connection is clearly written

in the spirals.

But for dogs,

like the humans that breed them,

that link has all but vanished

and the wild place from which we emerged

thousands of years ago

has become a foreign country.

Perhaps then,

that is why we both,

even though we are of different species,

seek one another out,

cling to one another,

care for one another,

and love one another.

Perhaps

that is also why,

some of us

seek God or solace

in the untamed, uncorrupted places of the world,

far from the complications of the crowd,

to heal, when we have been emotionally wounded,

or have been somehow cut off from others

whether as a result of our own foolishness and confusion,

the designs of others,

simple happenstance,

or the inevibility of death.

Perhaps,

it’s because when we are alone,

when we feel our smallness in the universe

and our separateness from nature so intensely,

or when we look within

in the solitude of meditation,

that we can also feel the unseen connection,

no matter how distant,

between one human and another,

you and I,

family, clan, friends

or with another animal,

or God, or nature,

or all that is more than ourselves.

Because our need for love,

is so great,

so strong,

that to live without that connection,

even with a small dog,

who shares that same need

for that same tender, invisible thread,

……is simply unbearable

Campfires

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I awaken this morning

in the cave of my being,

perhaps not quite ready for the light,

not quite prepared for the surface,

I lay on my back

tenderly testing this new reality

with shallow breath and coiled tongue,

as if it were a coal,

still too hot to touch,

not yet cooled

from last night’s fire.

Where have the wheels

hidden beneath night’s carriage

taken me as I slept?

What cold and distant constellations

have been traversed?

What country do I now inhabit?

Will I find the same familiar trees,

the same mountains and seas,

the same beloved faces?

Or some new other,

yet to be explored,

transformed from the ashes of yesterday,

when we burned down the house

in the radiance of your smile,

which now, once more,

I feel blazing on the lids of my eyes.

8/11/16