surrender my self fully
sink deep and
fall in as if
i will not survive,
until i come out its
other side somewhere …
elsewhere -
some secret hidden destination
in the second-hand of a clock -
it hasn’t worked.
i resolve to sit in one place and count the birds for an entire day,
all the while aware that numbers are
meaningless.
i keep having dreams
about sleep
and the uncoupled sounds
frozen behind clouds.
each unlived life lives on
in us.
at the center of
everything is
everything.
to stay in the present moment – how, when it’s
ever slipping through our fingers? sometimes,
with the hands of a pick pocket, we try to hold onto
… something ... who has not done that?
who has ever succeeded?
who we are is how we grieve.
all of us, our love
is broken;
our hearts are broken.
how do we then
rescue each other?
how do we coax the angels
all around us,
rare and common,
without wings or voice
or feet to intercede?
they come to us in seeming need
and let us believe we indulge them
with kindness.
all the while they are the ones that save us
from ourselves.
let your self be
touched - just take
the heart from
the room where
you’ve kept it
so long,
It mistakes those cinder walls
for its own.
love grieves – at the heart of the heart
is ineffable hurt.
hold it tenderly
and let compassion
settle through your lashes
just as a child gives
over to some
man
of sand
with abandon.
the swell of the stars, all
ceaseless
just for this moment
-long enough, but
where then the surface
between ‘i’ and the
cup of the sky and
everything else?
where is the surface, mine?
there is not …
skin is not,
not any more than the sound
of a heartbeat or the roads
lightening traces
for birds to follow later.
if not this breath, not this thought,
than what?
nothing.
no thing refused.
every thing
renunciated
and thus,
at last,
received.
