Handle With Care

We have burst from the shells
staring agog at blue sky
feeling sun and wind ruffle
our feathers. There are no words
dragged from the past
where once we nestled
cozily content in a slumber
no longer available.
We turn in our astounded delight
to urge our caged brothers
still below: be free!
The opening is clear!
The peckish response: you’re
killing me. Leave me alone,
I’m eating my existence
all my energy devoted
to this dreadful chipping away
in the darkness. Cold disconnect
as everything I know tears away
and must be digested before
I can move.

Ah, my dear, in my delirious
joy and open question, I summon
all my compassion
hold the space
while you find the will
to fight through what blocks
your clear sight.

Ask The Horse

[They] “will continue to press every button we have…they will point us to our freedom every time.”~Byron Katie

Go right to the source and ask the horse.  Talk to Mr. Ed.~Jay Livingston

Why do robins usher in the dawn with songs
of cheer I hear even behind these sturdy walls?
Why do I call one body all my cells
who collaborate in this symphony?
Can I hear my own harmony?
How can I move into the macroscopic
view, reality askew? In the course
I offer to the world, we rhyme
outside of time. Today’s lesson taught
by blue sky fraught with stratocumulus
beings chasing across a horizon
busily steaming more and more.
What industrious chef bubbles these pots?
What is cooking? How does it feed me
now to ask? I could take our leaders
to task, blame their remote egregrious
greed. The sky reminds me to stay
open, salute the digression,
move back into question. Diving ducks
black and white have claimed the lake.
My mother says, for heaven’s sake.
Where is my power? Which place of wonder
allows me to flower? This spring
morning I inquire, step out of knowing
into this glorious change. Cirrus
wisps take the podium, custodians
whisking the stage. I stay
engaged and moving
into why, my heart at ease
powerless rage released.
There’s joy behind the fear,
relief. I wonder how
a sparrow hawk swoops past,
low and fast opens my now.

 

Inspired by Remote, Lesson, Course, Collaborate.

We’re Out Of Time

Will you recognize me? Call my name…rain keeps falling down, down, down.~Keith Forsey and Steve W. Schiff

When he leaves, he calls
goodbye, I’m never coming back.

So cute until the very next
visit is delayed and my

gut clenches. Another child once
sang, don’t you forget about me

into her video just weeks before
the crash that left her forever

young, this photo on the fridge.
This moment, are you here?

Karma used to be misguided
authority’s threat for good behavior,

or that godawful exhortation
act like a lady, for heaven’s sake.

Unpacking that cosmology still
like Mary Poppins’ spacious bag filled

with impossible things. All of it
leans me in to tell you:

I love you. Through all the constructs
of separation. We’re taught to

ride our emotions like bucking
broncos, determined to master

what simply flows. Stuck in the ring
proud agony, suffering refusal

to loosen the reins, the first step
out of time. On the lakeshore

with laden clouds, amassed and
weighing down the gray, featureless

sky, I let go even the waiting.
Here under pressure

saying at last
I do not know but

I care
with every vibrating cell.

Inspired by: Authority, Spacious, Lady and Karma.

Double Take

I think, therefore I am.~Rene Descartes.
In the stillness of my heart, I am.~Thomas Huebl

There are 10,000 thank yous
in my pliable heart today

spiraling in layers of waking,
calling me from the dreams.

It takes gumption to deny
the insidious cosmology

walking outside the rigid
boxes and Cartesian love

affair with the monkey mind.
When will science comprehend burps

signify the presence of ancestors,
that living trauma obstructs

our songs in the fields of
our being? When can we call a

dead stop to giggle
at duality, celebrate the belly

laugh that loosens the grip
of damnably right or humiliatingly

wrong? We become this mourning
dove surprised into flight

eye-catching, swirling air
across the lake. We recognize

each other. The plump and juicy
aloe plant vibrates the window.

We drip gratitude as we
breathe. The trees quiver.

Rocks hold deep programmable
space. Cicadas chirrup.

Light reaches into us all
in abundant, life-giving waves.

Inspired by: Giggle, Layer, Gumption and Pliable.

What Filters In

It’s not that I’m only inspired

while lugging my esoteric

case through virtual reality,

panting as I take the stairs.

Just give me a second

to catch my breath,

the constant friend who’s

telling me something I’m not

present to hear.  I look for

patterns everywhere, not just

these striped shadows on the

sunlit curtains.  Monday, I sipped

vanilla latte with my friends in LA,

on Wednesday it was black

coffee after the funeral in

Crawfordsville—too wet to plant,

the fields fallow and overgrown

with wild mustard.  Green heron-

lakeview on Thursday and somehow

today I’m here with a foamy

bulletproof concoction in sunny

Florida.  In each place, welcomed

and seen, pulled by a thread

across the continent, through

time and space.  Yesterday as we

pierced a fluffy white cloud,

the child behind me squealed,

“Ooh, Mommy, look!” Swallowed

into this playful being,

left quizzical: did I really 

emerge?  How can I

write poetry when I’m

deluged by symmetry?

I guess I’ll go

walk this tail-wagging dog.

Inspired by: Quizzical, Patterns, Esoteric and Virtual.

I Need A Miracle

I’m huddling in the last

days of winter and how

do people stay alive?

When that dark wind

sprays madness,

do they simply nestle

under comforters

slack-jawed and snoring?

I wheeze until I rise

long before the sun.

The sameness feels

like shame.

My ancestors spoke words

that had no meaning

to the people they slaughtered:

money, value, property,

own, discard.

Propelled by myths

of separation, we settled

and moved,

dispossessed

and greedy for everything

we can’t see

and can’t say.

We’ve put a price tag

on the gift and how can we

continue this interest-bearing?

Once we blamed the regal

heads of state, so made

a single alteration

in our wealth

driven by war

consuming

consumed

consumption

our progressive wasting

away

and tell me, please,

how do we stay

when we can’t take it

anymore, screaming

through the birth pains

coming of age.

 

Inspired by Regal, Alteration, and Spray