LESSONS AND THE RHYTHM OF TIME

again

and again

and again

and again

there is one star and it is a planet

there is only one way to be true

there’s a fence across my arms

there is a chicken in my arms

against my cheek

black and white feathers

the phone rings

and a poem is in another document in the air in the bytes

on the neck in the rouge on the cheek in the

eye the tip of the nose kiss the playful body in the morning

when everything is unwoken and broken and the light hasn’t hit

your pupils just yet

pink in the sunset the

cold air blowing in from the east

cupping the city like a sacred object

a stone a heart locket your tears

are a gift your sorrow the rift that makes

the river run brown and clear cold and muddy

hallelujah

is a cymbal is a chime are the small bells on the edge of a drum

i am the small bell on the edge of a drum my

small song enough to make the air part

in joy

how selfless, to live, just to drop some seeds, die before they grow

wild strawberries
clustered at the edge
a race against slugs
in the wet wild grass
bright blood red
tiny as ever
she was right
better than store-bought

to protect from harm
to protect sacredness
to learn from listening

for the harvest of the seed

to integrate wisdom

for stillness

to find time
to give thanks
to discipline
to offer a gift
to dream
to get alone
to forgive

moans groans hiccups

tiny cold toes

open mouth awaiting

warm mama milk

nothing left
to prove
we gifted
big dreams
made a friend
of the enemy
now we
rest, reflect
newborn
each day
nothing left
to prove
nothing left
to say

the moon

be still

be a child

still running through green grass

the smell passing your nostrils

and the tangle of it clogging your fingers with

newness

till you fall

finally full

into a heap of yellow mustard

cut through with blue sky

i pray

that one day our tears

can part for a moment

of sunshine the tears in this fabric

repaired

by so many capable hands

hearts

and voices

amen

hot and fertile
earth on a late spring day

bleeding regularly
womanhood gifts that lay

creation and acceptance
the greatest acts of love

deeply cyclic
faithful listener of above

the heart cracked open
out flowed pain, a
dark thick substance
without name
freeing the victim
of guilt shame blame
the lower vibrations
of life’s game

renewal, rebirth
the fool born again
ready to fall
ready for change
in forward motion
the Most High plays
a lucky beating heart
blessed be the day

My time clock

When will it stop

Ticking

When will i run out

Of shelter

Rent around the corner

Moving left and right

The sun sets

The llama in front of the fence

My fingers on keys instead of

Lead letters

Inspiration from the bog

There is the garden we tend

To watch the world live

And there is the T.V. screen

To watch the world die

the grip of time
i am willing
all are deserving to be full
preparation differs us
wait wait waiting
intentions do come true
get alone
lack distractions
talk to Self often
if one listens
to the words thoughts actions
one aligns
with one truth
the only judge is Self
they are but the witness
i take in
i command
hand in hand
relation is nature
it is how we see
release
keep
oneness is all of me

Can I name you

Can I name you

Call you two things at once

Can I name you

Perfect Paradox

Soon as I released, I received

And I mean, truly, really, released

From the Self of Self

To the listening God

I received and completed

The end and the beginning

Of my new chapter

I’ve made my decision

Can I name you

Call you two things at once

Can I name you

Perfect Paradox