i went to bed for week
and the world changed colors
yes, of course, i know its autumn
only it isn’t, quite
and all i’m really trying to say
is we forget again and again and again
to notice the magic all around us
blooming right beneath our hurried feet
as we focus on the fresh vines of ugliness
winding their way up twisted ankles
when what we need is to pay our heart’s attention
to the desperate grand finality of fall
…
may i never be too old
to sit upon the ground
before a tall and hungry fire
built from gold
trees my only witness
sky my only hold
and the river running miles
through the crackled mud between us
singing hard and true and cold
. . .
watch time float by
on the whisper of living
breathe in blue sky
and never exhale
light the candle
of forgiveness
and forget to blow it out
speak the song
of the silenced
or rather, start to sing
watch a heron
kiss the water
in a solitude of sunshine
stand taller
than the mountain
you just climbed
ride the train of broken tears
that barrels down
each side
embrace the clouds
that hover close
to the places you last cried
.
give it all away
.
and watch time
float by
on the whisper
of living
…
and deep dark
late night lists
of the ways we are all
just a little bit
broken
and the revelation
that all we can do
is open our arms
our minds
our fear closed
scared scarred
sacred
hearts
and face the sun
one more time
one more day
one more moment
today
today
today
and love
that’s
all there is
ever
not forever
just this
minefield mountain
of now
the present
of presence
and these shard blue
sheltering smithereens
of moving sky
…
…
like the gathering jay
landing indigo dark
at this goodbye leaves fly sky
waving summer’s
last muleta
…
and this hollow black horizon
fielding landings
for cold flight frenzy bright geese
holding court
in a flurry of age
…
and you treading merlin’s tall night
through a landmine
of lost forest season
no frame can contain
or define
…
and the brink of soft light
through these brittle bone trees
of tender sight not quite description
guiding current the truest
way home
…
stand tall in the light
of your own deliverance
bury nothing
but roots
grow rings
of truth
spin buds
of grace
and wait
time will spin
your story
into fresh green
dappled
shade
none of us are free
we all come at great cost
to ourselves
to others
to this bold green earth
to those we love
and those we hate
to those
we cannot know
own yourself
pay the price of reflection
add loose change
to the plate of collection
pick up your actions
hold them high
look deeper
examine
have the good guts
to stare yourself
in the eye
have the true grace
to accept
all consequences
own yourself
none of us
are free
the sun is shining just now, but it’s so cold.
the snow is glittering with that false, enticing promise.
beautiful to look at, brutal to hold.
and now i’m thinking of you again.
it’s a vicious circle-cycle.
life and loss and the truth of living.
survival of the fittest.
survival.
of.
we all have our own sky.
as a child, i was often told I saw the world through rose-colored glasses. i could use a pair of those these days, when my sky is gray and life keeps handing me hard lessons.
these days, i’m thinking a lot about truth, betrayal and strength, and grace. digging deep, healing wounds that keep re-opening, cutting a crooked path through the tangled forest of fortitude.
it’s dark in here, but i never have been afraid of darkness. how else can we measure the light? besides, once your eyes adjust, it’s easier to see what lurks in the shadows, who your cellmates are, who reaches out a hand to guide you.
perhaps i’ll put a new garden over there, just around that bend. maybe a bench and a book with a view of the sunset. perhaps i’ll build my own mountain in the backyard of bafflement.
and then, just when i am ready, i will climb to the top and belt out the song of my survival.
. . .
writing again, winding my way through some things. finding my way home.
integrity is honesty in words and actions
damn the game-playing,
word-changing,
hide-and-seek
gladiators
: :
i’ll take the bird singing joy
surprised by each sunrise
the child’s new word
wrapped in giggle and smile
i’ll take the plate washed with love
to complete a good meal
and the call in the night
to remember what’s real
i’ll be quiet and staid
in a world filled with pretense
wrinkled and worn
in the fountain of youth
i’ll walk steps on the path
my own feet have created
humble-quiet and found
through dark forests of pain
: :
i will listen with love
and be your best mirror
shining back your lost song
from a field
sown with grace
