South is the dam
North is the city
East and west are the moaning train tracks
But here, in the sunset over
Hills and water
The gulls, the mergansers, the raptors,
Sing to me and deafen the wailing
Of machines in the distance.
I climb the tree, shimmying to the second branch
It feels more like home in that moment
Than anywhere else.
Perfection is Being There.

Early spring
Overpass footsteps overpassing industrial water.
Gas station bananas and purple glittering
pigeons on wires,
the rhythm of traffic,
and the last dots of snow
clinging to the old  hills,
older than memory.

To let go of the vision slope
of the slope of the linear regression
of a small town wedged between the directions,
to melt with the snow into the river,
and be part of the rushing waters


just a day dream.

Four poems

Gleaner

A bowl of ice water runs through the cracks in my brain.

The fields have been harvested,

but I have gleaned an existence all the same.

A husk, a hand,

a crow staring me straight in the eye,

“I am you, too.”

If it were this way,

(a gem against the hook of the throat),

the warmth of the world in a single breath, and then

I am again in the abandoned

hacienda

that grew

roses

           for acres and acres.

The guanábanas dangling like green brains

on the verge of letting go

the rot and the roses,

the mangy dogs.

The white house with empty rooms,

and one mother and son

with all the uncertainty

of Providence.

Loss

A fish hook earring, smoothed stones from

white caps and under

tows.

Two days here, on a beach all your own.

One,

     warm, bright, sensual, blinking,

like a person in love.

The other cold, the ending of a family of sorts, the knowledge of that.

We held each other like a round stone in the palm of a child.

Don Juan

Don Juan,

I apologize for

all of the awful things I said

while you were crying on the threshhold's floor,

the dirty dishes,

And the sting of those who were you before.

There are cairns on our chests

Do you really

need to know

where the stones came from?

They've been placed slowly and with care

to mark a summit

       (or a grave)

Here, it is changeless,

driftless.

The snow comes and the snow melts and

the earth is just as stately and alone.

I touch it, I feel it, I touch you, too.

Don't call me that-

It isn't true.

I only wanted to feel the deepest you.

Dream #1

The island wasn't far,

but the water was deep,

deep and clear.

The moon had set and

the island was a looming

shadow on the horizon.

She slipped into the ink, naked, fishlike.

In the middle of the river,

or lake

( she couldn't be sure )

A sunken stadium light

illuminated the clean water,

the fish shadows,

the minnows,

stretches of seaweed,

her outstretched legs.

This is something I wrote a little while ago, and I'd like to share it into the abyss...

The older I grow, the more I don't know where to put all the love. Everytime I turn around, it is there. It is there with family, in the children I work with, with close friends, with lovers and past lovers, it is there with everyone I interact with. I see so much more love than hatred or greed. Love is so small in scale and so large in scope. It is the slightest gesture of a hand on a shoulder or a smile, but it is also pervasive nature of all existence. And it seems like so much to receive, that how could I ever give back? Certainly, I never gave out this much love, all the love that I see coming towards me. And where to put this love in my heart that is already so full? It seems so overwhelming, like it is always about to overflow, but it can take more and more. I think this is the loaves and the fishes, the widow's oil- there is an endless provision of love. And I see that this is the whole lesson, that everything is Love. That Love is so deeply a part of us that it is us. This is why at our darkest, love enters without expectation, because love takes care of love.

Sometimes, we just care, we care and there is nothing else. How can I BE love, all the time? How can I not just express, not just show, or be in, but BE love? I am thinking that this is the greatest thing I can learn in this lifetime. How can I be, just pure and unadulturated love? This is my (our) true nature, and it is mine (ours) to uncover. Love is truly seeing the oneness and healing from the awareness of that truth.

Just for today, I surrender to the Allness.