Warning
I threw caution to the wind...
A gale brought it back
and it slapped me
in the face
with the force
of a quiet truth
One of those days
On the days
where my soul is ablaze
and I roll unapologetically
over the altar of Life
sensing the orgiastic embrace of roots
beneath the sprouting green earth
the sun kissing each of my pores
the waters of fleeting streams
running in unison with my blood
birds finishing my thoughts
with their song...
On the days
where I fully know the space
diminutive and infinite
that I take
in this ever unfolding eternity
and breath moves my body
of its own accord
to the rhythm of tacit music
played by a mighty oak tree...
On these days
I sit on the ground
and let Love seep through me
like sweet rain on thirsty soil...
You
You.
Yes, You.
Powerful amalgam of breath and bone
fleeting marriage of flesh and clay
uncharted map of forgotten dreams
fragile threshold for air and voice
tapestry of wounds and kisses
seeker of the liminal space
between cream and cheese...
You.
Come.
Hold my hand.
There's no method to my madness.
We'll dance together over this tightrope
to the song of thunder
to the song of frogs
to the song of waves
crashing on the shore of silence
to the song of clouds
passing through your eyes
to the song of flowers
disrobed by the wind...
Come.
I've been sitting on the seed of your memories
I've been walking on the footprints of your hopes
I've been chasing your prayers on a twilit horizon...
You. Yes, you.
Leave your wings behind the door
leap into the last minute of this day
hair covered in newborn stars
a quasar quivering in your mouth
the fragrance of other worlds
still lingering on your skin...
You.
I hear a reverberation
of string instruments
in your belly
I hear a flock of butterflies
within your chest
I hear the echo
of lapping waters
behind your forehead...
You...
At the doorstep
of a vast love...
One that encompasses
sweet grief and bitter joy
One that encompasses
falling and flying
mourning and celebration
bleeding and blooming
dancing and burning
gleaming and dissolving
ravaging and setting free...
A love of petals and wounds
of scars and wings
of scabs and feathers
of lips and bruises...
I feel at peace dancing to this song
my hands empty
my heart full
as I know
I am a free range soul
as I know
the hunger of my spirit
the thirst of my body
and I dispense and receive
from a luminous fountain
my hand empty
my hand full
in grief and celebration
in joy and mourning
in beauty and darkness
in the embrace and in the vastness
in the holding and in the freedom
in the fire and in dissolving
in the words and in the silence...
The smell of gunpowder
behind my ears
the smell of roses
in the palms of my hands
the smell of stars
on my forehead...
The dust of the Underworld
still fresh on my bare feet
the light of the Heavens
still flickering in my wings
the echo of impossible bells
still reverberating in my belly
my body still sprinkled in ashes...
Sprouting dreams beating
to the sound of newborn galaxies
covered in morning dew
and last night's moonbeams...
All in the flavor of a kiss
all in the flavor of an unfinished salad
all in the flavor of a sunrise
all in the flavor of of the fire crackling...
And while the scabs on my knees are still fresh
and my shadow on the dappled ground
is still dancing to the song of pain
...I will allow myself to be humbled by joy.
I will part ways with your hands
and spell your name on the mud.
That too, is an offering
on the altar of Love
just as hunger is an offering
to the altar of Nourishment
I am an offering
to the altar of Devotion...
I will dance holding with a hand that lets go
I will sing with a voice steeped in silence
as I bloom within the compost of my dreams
as I shine from the root of my darkness
and taste the warm sweetness
within the bitter cold
the lullaby of peace glowing in my veins
as I allow myself to flow
through meandering
stagnation
and rapids
as a leaf on the surface of a little creek...
Hoping to sleep
hoping to dream
hoping to wake up
and go and kiss once again
the mossy bark of my best friend
under the setting sun
under the rising moon...
Thunder
I've been a moth
diving in sweet devotion
into the flames
I've been a dancer
leaping to my own drum
over broken feet
I've been a flower
cloaked in quivering petals
suddenly disrobed by the wind
I've been a fern
unfurling my spiral
in a precocious Spring
I've been a seeker
crossing the furious ocean
on a burning ship
I've been a tree
sharing my secret light fountain
with a human being
I've been a bird, too
...and I taught the heavens
how to sing in thunder.
Yellow
While the trains stopped running
and the streets are empty
and the shops are closed
...the cuckoo clocks of thought
still dance in momentum
to the frantic rhythm
of proficient fear.
Nevertheless,
once again
Spring is here...
Nevertheless,
the first oriole
lands on the oak tree
and the orange nasturtiums
tremble in the breeze.
Nevertheless,
the stars will titillate later
embroidering the darkest night...
Is the mindfulness bell
of the body
tolling with hunger,
...once again?
Is the gratitude prayer of soup
simmering on the stove?
As these skies seem to you
too blue to be true,
Summer will come, too...
While the planes fly
once again,
so will the ladybugs
and the pigeons
and all neglected dreams...
While the trains run
once again,
so will the brooks
and the rivers
and the little feet of children...
But you,
you won't run on empty
anymore.
You've learnt to swirl
to the tune of silence,
you've learnt to dance
to your inner drum.
And me...
After walking back and forth
on this tightrope
between the shores
of Grief and Gratitude,
I will stand still,
in praise of Beauty
...once again.
I'll be a quiet, naked signpost
in the middle of a ripe field,
racketing crows flying about,
biting on an ear of corn
milky juice
running down my chin...
And you'll set the plow aside
once again,
as you'll see is time for harvest
and today's Grace is yellow
and Divine timing
is to be chewed
and all of the wisdom
of the sacred books
is to be read
on the textured alphabet
engraved by grass
on your skin...
I've been
I've been cradling words in my throat
I've been pushing feathers through my pores
I've been thinking clouds across my blueness
I've been stomping on fresh green with my hooves
I've been holding space within my orbit
I've been suffusing the universe with my silence
I've been penetrating wombs with my seed
I've been exploding into seedlings
I've been crying as crystalline rain
I've been singing as thunder
I've been fluttering into the flames
I've been colliding with the sun
I've been crackling through burning wood
I've been seeping through the soil
I've been growing diamonds in my belly
I've been sheltering opals under my skin
I've been saving love as a jewel in my heart
I've been hiding a pocket for feathers in my chest
I've been making a trail of kisses
I've been running against the horizon
I've been dancing to crashing waves
I've been rolling against the sand
I've been meandering around rocks
I've been condensed into cotton clouds
...I've been a slimy, hollering human
coming out of a womb.
Sometimes
Sometimes I remember
for a fleeting half moment
that I've been playing
all parts on this play
while expanding relentlessly
on the void of space/time...
The unfathomable fragility
of that almost memory
fades quickly into nothingness
and I am left with the longing
for that groundless embrace
from within
from without
from all directions
at once...
I have
I've bloomed in pink
on a million cherry trees
I've howled to the moon
the 99 names of Allah
I've beat in unison
with thousands of hearts
and fluttered about
in multicolored wings
I've meandered around rocks
from the mountains to the oceans
I've gleamed as voracious flames
fed by the breath of countless beings
...and I was the air that fed that fire
licking the wood of a billion trees
and I was the sap flowing through their wood
and I was the water sipped by their roots
...and the rain that fed the streams
and the sunbeams blessing the leaves
and the teeth crashing the ripe fruit
and the juice running down my chin...
Fire Time
Looking
Smoky Haiku
Ashes in the air.
My blood and flesh, these burnt trees.
Nowhere to run now...
Barefoot
Know
When the Earth stops shaking
and the dust is settled
and the fires extinguished
and the rivers receding
When the bodies heal
and the minds are clear
and the hearts that broke
let go of their fears
and your breath slows down
and your hands reach out
and your tears dry up...
When the Truth shows fluid
and Tenderness invincible
When the chase is over
and the fleeing ceases
and the search proves futile
and the footfalls hush
When the heirloomed terrors
vanish into smoke
and the loyal hatred
lies under the ashes
and the sprouts of kindness
quiver as wild flowers
in a fragile dawn
...then, you'll remember.
Then you'll know.
Then you'll feel it
in all corners of your being.
The verses of every holy book
ever written
glowing in your belly
beating in your chest
melting in your mouth
flowing down your cheeks.
Humbled by dirt and twilight
humbled by blood and beauty
you'll fall on your knees
...and Know.
Mirror
A passing mirror
for the soul
cradling hands holding
an aching heart
the missing lullaby
the word untold
a simple refuge
under the raging storm
Hoarding Love
Hoarding love?
Saving tenderness?
For a deserving recipient,
for a better occasion,
in a hypothetical future
in another fitter place?
Even when it's been shown
over and over again
that the love you withhold
will be carried as pain
...and there's no interest
on a savings account
for kindness,
and the stock market
for hope
may collapse, at any moment?...
Keeping compassion
under the mattress?
Hiding sweetness
inside the toilet tank?
For an emergency?
For a rainy day?
Stashing time in a piggy bank?
Attempting to freeze the hours
within your inner clock?
Postponing presence
until a more deserving event
brings you to your knees
in salty awareness?
Until a more deserving being
breaks you open in grief?
Until a more deserving wound
gets your attention,
while your heart bleeds quietly
all along?
Stockpiling breaths?
Accumulating joy?
Squirreling safety away
on account of dangling carrots?
Here.
Have all of me.
Since I don't have a fancy pantry
or anything you can really
pillage or pawn in my core...
I also have no walls for you
no boundaries for your heartbeat
no fences for your demons
no borders for your dreams...
I've fled this burning tower
climbing down my own braid.
I've left my shield and armor
hanging behind the door.
Come.
Have all of me.
No need to hoard your Love...
I won't charge interest on my words
I won't keep beauty away as useless
I won't save my eyes from seeing you
I won't wait for a better time to hear you
I won't postpone you for a more deserving One.
Have all of me.
I'll be fire in your belly
I'll be soil under your feet
I'll be water in your veins
I'll be air for breath and voice...
Holy Communion
Diligently kiss the floors of your kitchen, now.
Chant a prayer of gratitude over a greasy pan
while the kettle joins in sheer devotion
Turn each meal, into a precious sacrament
atoning any ancestral tumbles
each cup of tea, a healing ablution
erasing any malady
Make the flames of your stove
the hearth of the sacrificial altar
- no virgins required -
and know that primordial fire
ignites each of your cells
Gather your hunger to savor Divinity
the bitter of past sorrows
the sour of buried loyalties
the spicy embers of a dream
the salty sweat of angels
the sweetest tears of joy...
Allow all the Elements to converge
for the pleasure of your tongue
and the nourishment of your body
Kneel at the sacred altar of your table
the very flesh and blood of all Prophets
lays on your plate and reddens your glass
Make your plate the holy land
make your mouth a blessed threshold
pray Rosaries made of rice and beans
bite the whole Universe on a potato
be baptized on a sip of water
as you abide in the liminal space
between cream and cheese...
Make your mouth the refuge of the Deity
make your belly the cradle of your Life force
make your body the sanctuary of Love
a moving vessel of tender Truth
Prostrate to your soup spelling a name for Allah
bow to the Goddess on each drop of cream
attain Nirvana on every single bite
realize your Buddha nature on a slice of bread
butter, the very essence of the Mother...
The water from your faucet
is holy rain on thirsty soil
Every morsel is mouth-fed
by the Phoenix itself
Anoint yourself with honey, now.
It was brought to you by bees
that made love to a thousand flowers
just on your behalf
Feed yourself as if you were feeding
the Infant God on your lap
your spoon a royal scepter
first teeth biting on a fruit
as if devouring the whole Cosmos
soup a Divine Mystery
creamy pearls the Milky Way
spilled across the heavens...
Skin Field
I called back my butterflies
and pinned them again
into a little wooden box
I keep under the bed.
Ineffable moments
were distilled into words,
as fleeting and marvelous
as their delicate flutter.
The sun was setting
the moon soon to rise
and I was ready to dream
another unrecalled dream.
I've been all the parts
on this play,
I won't collect
applause or praise.
Shadows are growing
on the twilit pavement
and ghosts are wandering
the empty streets,
warm wind scattering
their footprints,
as dead dry leaves,
into oblivion...
In the dead of night
while nocturnal flowers
bloom and release
their sickening perfume
I hear a faint echo
calling my name
from lips that once
knew mine too well...
The skin field
where I deployed my kisses
has faded into the dark.
Burn
Each morsel sacred
as if the first,
as if the last.
Each kiss ineffable
as if to wake
Sleeping Beauty
up...
I drown on every ocean
and rise on each horizon
and bloom as every flower
within the tender compost
of my beloved dreams...
I savor all the words
and get lost in translation
in my own mother's tongue
...And then I jump enraptured
back into the silent abyss.
I'll take root in the air
and then unfurl my wings
under the humid soil.
I'll take another leap
of faith without a net
to glide free but unfinned
over the darkest wave.
...And then I'll burn again
in the sheer ecstasy
of this magenta skies...
Ocean
I went to the ocean.
My heart ached
for the advice of water
and the rhythmic, faithful love
of sea kissing earth...
And the ocean welcomed me,
fearless and generous
as a blue, open armed deity
spreading multiple hands
on the shimmering shore
tiny river fingers reaching and flowing
back and forth
from the mystery of that salty womb...
The waves didn't ponder if it was their time
or the right sand to crash upon
and the seaweeds kept business as usual
wrapping rocks up in their marvelous cloaks
and the rocks persisted on their stoic meditation
while a couple harvested a bucketful of mussels
and a little dog fetched a ball
57 times.
And I wandered in awe
my sandy toes as eager
as the toddler's frolicking nearby
as every pebble wanted to be seen
and every shell wanted to be found
and every anemone wanted to be stroked
and even the dead seagull
with its crossed wings
carried the joy of its last flight...
And I knew
every footprint on the sand that day
was a prayer and an offering...
And even though the sun lingered until dusk
the day was coming to an end
and the twilight suffused watercolored skies
with magenta and violet and the promise of stars...
So, not wanting to leave I took the trail back
and greeted again the poppies that danced
loosing their orange, velvety petals
to the sweet song of invisible frogs.
Dark Night almost Haiku
Under the blooming shadow
of the loquat tree
I was found ...and lost again.