Child Of The Dawn

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And so the mottled child forlorn

wanders in from his journey home,

out of the soothing patter

of a warm rain

that fell across last night unrestrained.

Where have you been?

I ask him standing

in that light streaking

from between clouds and moments now breaking.

All the while silent answers flow

unhindered from his sodden features.

From somewhere deep inside the identity

of bone and stone,

being love and washing fear,

out of time’s dark narrow funnel.

From a place preceding sight,

through which all things,

both suffered and enjoyed,

must pass, coming and going,

all matter, dreams and light,

cosmic dust, water and smoke.

 

6/30/17

 

Spring Fires

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The clouds in the east

are only a false promise of rain today,

but the jasmine has begun to bloom outside my door,

and above, the intense pale green

of emerging leaves graces the tree.

There is a hint of grass smoke

from the spring fires burning in the hills,

and an unseen wren is singing a sweet song,

“Where is love, where is love – surely not far away”,

waiting for the drought to end.

 

5/19/17

Small Storm

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A small storm rages in the dead of night

Not tearing at the limbs of trees in the darkness

Not raging in the swirling sky above

But within these compound walls

Of stone and skin

In a windowless room

Unseen Un-named uncategorized

An unknown tumult

In a wordless dream

In an unbound stream

I wrap my spindly arms about these howling winds

And bow deep into the spiral eye to see

The quiet peace The invisible heart

In the loving protection of your outstretched fingers

In your open hand

Before the sun has risen.

 

5/28/17

Everything Changes

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The reason we exist is to change.

That’s reason anything exists,

because it’s impossible to stay the same,

no matter how hard we try,

everything eventually changes.

I look into the darkness

and I see no end.

Sometimes quick, sometimes so slowly

the turning is barely perceptible.

Ribbons of light, each of us,

as one or separate, it’s all the same.

Ever changing, ever changing,

that is what we do.

That is what we will always do.

We are each in charge.

We are change.

It’s o.k.

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