Friday’s Passing Fancy/Poem: For Those Who Think They are Lost but are Only Weary

Perhaps to rediscover the bedrock

of all happiness, she crouches

in the creek’s whispering path

where rocks are made of death and life,

and water becomes liquid light.

Above, forest canopy and fleet things hover

as if to pluck out, lift this small woman,

her blood laden with cellular grief,

mind a circumnavigation of hope,

bones compacted with weariness.

Late day gold floats, settles on her skin,

explodes in the air and inside her eyes,

flings her far beyond herself,

startles tears caught in her throat that

sound like the cry of an angel or animal,

that singular voice of life as it emerges

from darker places that would steal us all

if we relented, forgetting the majesty

of it, the Love that calls and recreates us

but we do not forget, we cannot forget,

immortal and mortal, each tethered

to one and another here and there.

And the woman finds power, stands, steps away.

Friday’s Pick/Poem: September Segue into Courage

IMG_1470

This is for all the times
we have not done enough
of what we might have done;
for moments when
language dangles between us
as heroic swinging bridges,
devised but distrusted;
for nights and days when
the ominous and sacred
are neither well discerned or heeded.

We can still seek luminosity within
pockets of space and thought,
recruit hope from the morning’s song.
And act as if truth lives here,

our efforts reverting soul’s unease,

filling needs for mercy multiplied.

I write this for you when you think nothing else can be offered, slumbering in a cave of defeat.
It is for when plenty seems paucity
and we have forgotten there is always
a greater sum than failed or shrieking parts.

You ask, I ask, what can save us?
Is not the value in our moments of courage,
readying for receipt of what may come? It may be better; our raggedness knows nothing.

What unspools next may morph with creativity, cause our cells to dance eternal, counsel us to believe. In kindness. To help each other gather up, move to the warmth in the dark, closer.

So lift your eyes before you curse every broken thing imperiling or wounding your feet.
Look up, praise the greatness of your God

without end.

Do you think we strive, fail, dream, mourn alone?
This universe does not quit, it labors, it redesigns and recovers, it offers evidence of this such

blazing love

aflame for us.

 

Friday’s Pick/Poem: Cricket Wisdom

The group commences to sing.

Sun hides, air thins with cooling,

lean shadows go grey to black-violet.

Stage is set; I am the audience.

Their stridulation uncaps peace,

an elixir of sudden happiness,

and they are busy romancing.

How hard is the work of seeking mates,

the mute females invisible to me yet ready?

Love is not the point or the promise

not the favor or reward.

Songs rise and pause, stake out the night

with aggressive beauty, concoct a spell

I do not care to break.

Will the females not dare speak, are they

breathless with knowledge and mystery?

Heat lingers just beyond my skin,

music weaves among thickets,

stars beam with power and water stills.

Stolen songs carry my body, soul;

eyelids close for a flash of dream.

Love has meant so little, so much.

How simple to sing for coupling and

fear no–hold no–other expectations.

The crickets pulse with late summer, feel

my footsteps as I seek them out–

for good fortune yes, that, too–

and they fall silent as my ears shyly

wait for the next song to bring me

more gifts of this luxuriant night.

A remembrance of things.

A wholeness of life being lived.

Friday’s Pick on Saturday: Mama Love

The sweetness ripens in giving and getting,

touch like petals in hand, gaze spellbinding

as moon and sun, magic laugh no one

hears but trees, sky, you, her, her.

Life can stew and turn sour and

time pilfer much of value but this,

this will survive to sustain you,

a font of rich nourishment, a love

offered with abandon and returned

with ease and such small expectation.

Friday’s Pick/Poem: Sea Wisdom

This is a moment again

that must count for dignity

and delight, here now as wind sculpts wave,

sky and its clouds slink along mountain,

sand favors skin with reminders

of pleasure and ache, body-mind

singing and howling secretly

-life this perilous and sumptuous,

it can barely be spoken of-

as summered light sifts from earth

and heaven fleeting colors,

shifts the veil of infinity,

imbues you, you and you,

yes (drinking wild sea)

most fortunate you