He, with speed, once descended

he, with speed

~

He, with speed, once descended

beyond reach of the voices echoing his name

~

He fell into a charnel river, its current carrying

him out to sea where, becalmed or turbulent,

He could find no sleep, no relief.

~

Assuming the contours of nebulous complexity

In despair he sank deeper into this watery world

which loosened the skin that bound him to lost memory

~

Sleek and facile now, he glided with a grace that was genuine

belying the anchor that weighted his heart

Until drawn by a patient star he swam in the shallows

where one day he was tempted ashore.

Too long untouched by sleep he emerged on dry land

with a prayer on his lips anointing the sand with his tears and sorrow.

~

Blessed by engagement with sadness he listened

his heart beat in cadence

with an emergent compassion

his prayer now in sync with the blighted terrain

he began to feel this sorrow was shared

Perhaps much the same

~

With a mind accustomed to formulating events and endings

Closer and closer he circled towards this endless wellspring

his newly trusting heart cycling up and down the mountain

of tension creating momentum between these opposites

~

Holding his own

between speed and a still point of being

~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Art: Alice Wellinger

Advertisements

The condition of unrestrained motion

wild garden

~

Is there no place for the heart and eye to rest?

???

fatigued by the unkinder textures of  human engagement

I squeeeeze

into the spaces in between us

!!!!

while the world of substance shifts

& tilts …

a kaleidoscopic mish mash

as it rights itself

Us along with it

with our names and rulers akimbo

all free falling

in the fields of wild light

~

A little spontaneous unedited hello!!!

~

I miss these Sunday mornings together when I don’t get here. Prose has me boggled and busy once again, so this is my space in between….the place my heart rests! And my eye feasts! The photo is from a walk in a local unweeded garden…perfecto!

 

Rhythms…

Turner

~

Riding the currents

sleeping through storms

treading water in the dark

~

sparks of harmonics

fly from my pen

~

my hand

the sentient animal

of my heart

~

~

An older poem …. words float and land. improvisational rhythms. their own kind of precision. different relationship each time. they’re just there….perhaps have always been

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Artist: Turner

In my house of open windows

SallyMann

~

“…. for a conditioned love loses its infinity, and in losing its infinity love is no longer love. In short, the highest expression of love as found in Hafiz’s poetry – is for love to create another perfect in its composition, without any bounds or conditions, infinite and completely, eternally free.”

~

her waist

that God

created out

of nothing

is so slender

none created

can embrace it

In response ….

In my house of open windows

When you enter the garden

and sing to me of your sorrows

in harmony with the songs

of the night birds

I weave each sorrowful note

into a carpet of prayer

for us to lie on

praising

our Beloved

~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Photo: “Deep South” by Sally Mann

Translation of Hafiz by Peter Booth

“Dante/Hafiz Readings on the Sigh, the Gaze, and Beauty” by

Franco Masciandaro and Peter Booth

I send my voice out until breathless…

3

~

There is a mountain

within me

An inheritance

that has now become a polished stone

nestled in flesh,

in blood rich organ

~

A nameless sadness, it nestles close

real as the moon’s rise,

born within

a pit in the stomach

a seed in the heart

~

“Take this strange sorrow from me. It is bottomless,” I cry

as I walk up and down

the mourning side of my mountain.

~

At the top of the mountain

I yodel like a fool…

sounds and sobs issue with spittle and tears

I send my voice out

until breathless

~

But not spent

~

In the quieting down

I understand this weight is a broken seam

that can not be healed

It is the rend in the garment

of the turning in and the turning away from.

~

This broken seam can only be mended

by the flame that burns

in an open heart

~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Artist: Johan Christian Dahl  1821

becoming Beauty

55fb4b1e3cb0142bb2bbdb767f37286b

~

Becoming Beauty

face up floating

in a sea of glass

~

Beauty lies below me

 in the elemental caprice of

sunlit patterns reflecting sky

~

Beauty circles above me

in clouds collecting salted tears

We all become the ocean when it rains

~

Beauty walks behind me

with gravity leaving footprints

Its strength the shifting sands

~

The wind of Beauty

blows quietly within me

ever seeking itself without measure

~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The source of this gorgeous photo is unknown

Fragile still

max ernst

~

Fragile like smog shadows rifling valleys

the mountain holds its breath

~

Fragile like feverish water

the ocean aborts the moon’s children

~

Fragile like bees loosing direction

and stamens playing their last hands

~

Fragile like children born overwhelmed

by viruses perplexed

~

Fragile still

like a flower 

self-sewing in the garden

in blooming will make no mistake

intelligence in its unfolding

~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Artist: Max Ernst

The unbearable awkwardness of three

6e4da506b7be3eddeba037828b3b4904

~

Doubt and Belief silently argue

as they sit upon a box

~

Trust joins them

adding 3 wheels to the box

~

giving much needed mobility

to their ping-pong debate

~

everyone’s muscles still tense

when they pass Hope or Violence

~

as they meander

around the countryside

~

looking for the exact spot

where their grief is buried

~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

photo credit: unknown

The nimbleness of intelligence

microbiome

~

How many times

will I shed raw and return?

Or is it a stronger current

amorphously assembling and deconstructing

in circuitous layers of attendance

as I unwittingly rally

behind the porosity of thought

the seduction of knowledge

~

I am a small planet

a symbiotic microbial world

my mind’s peripheral orbit

has flung so far out

in its trajectory that now

my axis seems nearly invisible

but I can still feel it…

this bright nucleus of love

teeming with life

~

Tepid fleshed, soft and juicy

I navigate through

this microbial stew

with winged thoughts

a heart that prisms lightning

and opposable dancing thumbs

exploring this finely tuned internal edge

tingling with the emotive tracings

of “new” frontiers

~

While underground

the nimbleness of intelligence

arises in quietude

fervent, listening

patiently listening

for openings of emergent steam

clear signs of the heat of engagement

~

I look “out there” from inside the swarming warmth

positioning myself in the spaces in between

practiced in resistance to the consistent hum of patterns and static

The quietude continues to rise from its circuitous path

this time through the soles of my feet

rising to the opening in my sky when I hear

“Out here! Out here! Not out there! We’re right here!

We’re all right here… playing in the fields of wild light”

~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Picture source: Teach the Microbiome