Despair

 

Despair

Despair isn’t useless

Not just a yoke

Forged in cosmic flame

To weigh you down

It is not a sign of your

Incompetence

Or imminent

Defeat

In this soul struggle

Wrestling match

You’ve found yourself in

No

Despair

Can mean many things

A way finder

Beckoning you back 

Because you’ve lost your way

A strong, hard shot of despair

Crawling into your limbs

Is a powerful tonic

Slowing momentum

Till time crawls

And the empty days

Provide room

For invisible servants

To sweep out

The trash

It’s not pointless

Or perhaps better stated

Despair has as much weight as joy

Nothing more

Both are buoys

You cling to

In the roiling sea

When you should

Let go

And allow yourself to drown

To sink

Into the stillness

That has been waiting for you

 

A Life Of Magic

A Life Of Magic

 

I sit beneath vaulting curves of wood

Snake forms spiraling into the sky

With a million flags of green

Sprouted in complete surrender

A breeze comes

And I can hear the movement

Of the sky

And in this moment doubt erupts

Who am I to feel this way?

Where are my credentials?

Where is the proof?

My heart dips

In the trough of emotion

I stare out from the bottom

And suddenly I catch a swell

My heart leaps to crest and

I spring up to capture the

Hawk feather tumbling by

I hold it

And feel no need for faith

I carry the feather with me

As a beautiful mark in time

When I swam in alignment

Later

A little girl on a red tricycle

Looks through her golden locks

At the feather in my hand

She squints at the sun

And says, “Can I have it?”

I place the feather in

Her little hand

And she smiles

“It’s a magic feather,” I say

“Take good care of it”

Lessons can grow roots from tests

No matter pass or fail

These roots will go deep

If I take care of them

Magic

Exists only in relationship

Alone

It can’t survive the elements

We must give it shelter

In the warmth of our near bodies

What Is Love?

What Is Love?

What is love but a strong breeze

That enters this spirit infused clay vessel

And defines its volume

Describes its arc and curve

By touching inner space

With invisible hands

Defining that which has no definition

What is love but a river

Flowing ceaselessly into the sea

And the sea ceaselessly accepting

That which is given

And neither the river nor the sea

Holding back for a moment

Not the sea for fear of space

Nor the river for fear of running dry

Love is a gradual unfolding

Like the clouds becoming flush with sunrise

Till all the darkness is driven away

And there is only light

Winding Through Ferns

Winding Through Ferns

The trail you walk curves through a landscape of ferns. You can see the thin line of bare earth cut gently through the plants and disappear over a rise. They seem ancient. So ancient that you think that’s probably how they looked millions of years ago after having settled from the ambulations of a dinosaur. The air is rich and moist and when you inhale through your nose it feels like you are participating in the forest’s essence, taking it deep within you and savoring it. The enormous trees rise from their bed of ferns like stately pillars charged with upholding the sky. The canopy is thick with billions of slender green needles, each a variation on an ancient form, shaped to gather fog so that the tree might drink. Your steps are silent on the spongy ground and it’s almost like you’re not even there, passing through the play of light and shadow, swaying around you on the dictates of cloud and wind. You feel part of the ecology of this place, aware of everything without having to focus on any of the details. This land has found a home in you and you smile as your legs take you, you know not where and this does not matter because each step you take is one into your heart and from this you will never stray.  

 

So Hard To Be Natural

So Hard To Be Natural

Why is it so hard to be natural?

It should be the easiest thing in the world

At some point in all of our lives

We were naturals

Never questioning

Just doing

But then gradually this was eroded

As we were encoded with dictums

Told how to be

In ways which were against our being

Then to escape the conflict

The tension created

By dogma and blind belief

Escape in all the fleeting pleasures

Even in the ruddy orange of sunsets

If you count on beauty

It will fail you

Take it in the moment

As it comes

And be glad when it’s gone

Because it can’t last forever

But you can

If you don’t escape

You know the chains around you?

The ones that cut your flesh if you move

Or struggle against them?

Get to know them

Stay put

And understand there is no escape

Live in the moment

And you will see

There is every such thing as eternity

And no such thing as the chains

You forged link by link

In the crucible of your mind

To Know Without Knowing

To Know Without Knowing

You see a flower

At the moment of unfolding

The last purple petal spreads

Like silk over your eyes

And you stare in wonder

How could such beauty exist?

The yellow belly button

At the center of the bloom

Yells yellow at your eyes

Till you think of the sun above

Your heart leaps for love

Reminding you of something you’d nearly forgotten

You walk over and snap the green stem

The umbilical cord to the Earth severed

The petal now swings like a pendulum in your hands

As you begin to think of other things

And the colors will never match that moment

The petals won’t even try

They know without knowing

They can’t trace a direct line

To the magma center of their home

From the vase on your coffee table

A Prayer For A Sunday

A Prayer For A Sunday

There is a cure for our sickness

This cure need not be administered with prayer

It does not require faith in a higher being

It does not require a strong foundation of belief

It can be administered by the scientific method

A method some would say caused this sickness to begin with

Fighting poison with poison

The cure is simply said

But momentous to execute

A revolution would flow in its wake

Do what is good for the Earth

What is good for all other forms of life

Including the rocks and the water that rushes over them

For they have souls too

Do this, say no to destruction and waste

And yes to balance

Yes to helping all life flourish

We should grow up

And be the stewards we were made to be

Then everything will be a prayer

Faith will be unquestioned

Because it will be a seed

Sprouted from each individual’s heart

As they tend the Earth with their love

And sow it with belief

 

To Beat The Birds

To Beat The Birds

I wore a face that was not my face

The muscles tensed and gripped

In ways they were not designed for

Long hours of frowning in front of a computer

Too many times smiling when nothing was funny

Or the worst, curling the lips at the corners

To sign approval of an act I found despicable

These muscles were meant to express

Love

Hunger

Rage

Kindness

Hilarity

Grief
Wonder

The molds my face understands

And for far too long this face has slipped

Between the deep grooves of Being

And skated along the shallows of conformity

No more

For I no longer recognize the rudimentary lines

And weak boundaries I have been asked to force my face into

It takes too much energy to be nothing, to be subservient, to follow the program

For I am too strong to hold myself down

I give my face permission to act as it will, say what it wants

Take the forms it finds comfortable

And laugh to beat the birds

Remember

 

Remember

Remember Son. Remember Daughter

The ground upon which you stand

Is not just ground

It is Earth

Connected to Earth

Until it meets the Sea

And then it ends

But only for your feet

The Earth continues

Downward

Through the fathoms

Under the deepest depths

To support the waters

And hold them up

Cradled in the loving palm of Earth

All that water

Remember Son. Remember Daughter

This is the place from which you came

From which all life began

The Earth is unbroken

The continuity of seasons

Can be traced to the time

Before seasons

And this Time too has a Mother and a Father

Just like you Son. Just like you Daughter

You are unbroken

You are whole

And you came from the Sea

 

A Vision

A Vision

I fell through green leaves

Thousands of them

Whipping against my face

As my body plummeted

The foliage bore this

With such nimbleness

Not breaking

Just bending as I passed

On and on I fell until

You caught me in your slender arms

Cradled my momentum

And smiled when I looked into your

Violet eyes

You kissed me

With deep red lips and

Slipped your purple tongue over mine

With the sweetness of nectar

You became smaller and slid

Into my body through the opening you’d made

I stood tall with you inside me

I grew roots out my feet and

Became fast to the fertile earth

I raised my arms so that

Stems could shoot from my fingers

And rise quickly upwards

Sprouting leaves

Up to where they could unfurl

And bask in the sun

It felt so good

Down in the penumbra

I could feel the light pulse down my stem

Like a heartbeat

Not mine

But ours

Everything’s

Nutrients rose into my feet

I drank crystal clear water

And mixed it with the sun

This is my center

Where the everlasting light from above

Meets dark and loamy earth

A being grounded in shadow

Connected to golden light

Wild Beast

Wild Beast

You’re being stalked by a wild beast

If you stop and listen in the stillness

You can hear it sniffing the air

For your scent

When this beast catches your essence on the wind

Mingled with moss and trees

And the feathers of birds

It knows it will surely devour you

Don’t fight the inevitable

If you keep running

And trying to lose yourself in images

And the flickering desires they kindle within

You’ll only make it worse

The beast will flay you with such exquisite mastery

You won’t even feel it

And one day you’ll wake up and realize

You have no skin

And you’ll wonder how you managed to continue

Perhaps the heart isn’t subject to gravity

And it just keeps going in the direction it was set

The spirit is a master oarsman

Change direction

Get it over with

Follow the musty scent and low growl and

Throw yourself at your doom

Be torn to shreds by its great claws

Listen to the wisdom of its roar as you suffer

The ancient pains of dismemberment

And know it is your mind that cares

When it’s all over and the beast has done its work

Ask yourself

How can it be that I am still here?

I am no longer running because

I no longer have anything to protect

I am an empty vessel filled with bottomless love

Then you see the beast wears a mark

And this mark is your name

You come to understand this beast is your savior and ally

Because it only hungers for that which need not be

 

My Heart Radiates Desire In Waves

My Heart Radiates Desire In Waves

My heart radiates desire in waves that

Beat ripples of time

Filling the air with lines of energy

Don’t tangle!

Be strong and true

Like the arrows

Shot from a huntsman’s bow

Help me find my way to you

Help me hear your clear call

Through the obfuscating noise of

Confusion

Woven into the fabric of this Earth by

Minds enthralled by stories

Learned sitting at the feet of fear

Under the cold and insufferable

Light of reason

Blow through this tangled web we weave

Like a gentle breeze

Traveling through branches

Unhindered and free like water

Fill this humble sail

Made from scraps gathered from

True moments I’ve lived

Stitched together with sinew and time

Send me to you

So that I may drown myself

In your siren call

In Your Hands

In Your Hands

I placed myself in your hands
And didn’t even know it
Looking back
I realize
Your great hands rose up from the ground
And scooped me up
In your cornucopian fingers
Like a gardener does a small plant
Roots and earth and all

I walked a path
Through one of your untouched old places
The vibrations of trees pulsing in my chest
And rising up through my throat
The energy transformed by my being into song
I was so utterly taken
By the great woody beings
Who had stood through countless seasons
Over thousands of years
Adding ring upon ring of wisdom
To the great knobbed fingers

I, a mote to their sense of time
A passing shade flitting within their shadows
Found a quiet place and sat
And sang to you for love
And the woods bore witness
To the rushing of air
As I was swept up in your arms

Echoes

Echoes

We are all echoes, reverberations of a single Being. Everything we perceive is a reflection of a single unity. Imagine a swiftly flowing river of limitless depth, the surface entirely placid as there are no obstructions and no friction to disturb the surface. Now imagine a branch as it penetrates the surface of the water. The current now becomes apparent as the ripples radiate outward, the manifested energy’s properties dictated by the shape and position of the branch. This is you. You are not the branch. The branch is your ego, your error in perception. You are the water. Not a drop or a measure but all of it.

The Best Health Insurance

The Best Health Insurance

The best health insurance known to humanity is to be in balance with yourself and your environment.

The Discarded University

The Discarded University

It is a human birthright to live in a state of connection and grace. We are born with an innate ability to communicate and receive messages from our Creator. Some call it the Great Spirit, God, Nature, Buddha-thought, Gaea, Pachamamma…this energy, this all knowing and all loving energy is called by many names but all cultures agree as to where this energy resides and this place is in nature, untouched by human hands. This is rather obvious. Prophets and sages and seekers do not go into the canyons of Manhattan to commune with their Maker, they go out to the wilds, the old places where canopies have overspread the plants beneath and provided the wisdom of shade for thousands of years. This is where a direct line of communication can be established, where messages can be received, if the instrument is ready and sensitive enough. Pachamamma communicates through Her children, through the other life forms we share this Earth with. She sends messages through the plants and whispers to us through the sighing of trees, through the wind in leaves. Those of us who live in cities have been almost entirely cut off from communicating with our Creator. She has no messengers to send. The imprint of the human mind is everywhere. Hard asphalt covers dirt, buildings made in the image of the human mind with all of its shortcomings and constraints, boxy, inelegant, wasteful, crowd upon the eye and fill it to brimming with half-truths and blatant lies. The city as designed for buying and selling, growing rampant with the fertilizer of ego and greed and dire misunderstanding. Pachamamma has been driven out by the hubris of the ego, the false state of the mind that mistakes creation for its own. There isn’t a one of us that doesn’t know there is something drastically wrong. Not one of us is free from the nagging feeling the world we live in is terribly and catastrophically out of balance. We don’t need to do most of what we are doing. We need alignment and healing, we need the loving song of our Mother to bring us back, to reawaken us to what we are. Sacred, holy creatures put here in the ocean of time to learn, to experience and take our place in the great construct that is the expression of the Creator, the web of life. We are here to learn a single lesson and this is all. And how are we to learn if we’ve discarded the university? We’ve surrounded ourselves with a leaded box and are cannibalizing one another with the nightmares we’ve come to believe are true. For many, nightmares have become their birthright. This is false. We need to go back to the old, powerful places, open our senses, let go our false desires and fears, generated by this one-sided construct of the mind and go back to the multifaceted and energetic construct which was made for us. Our home. Our true place. It fills me with a sadness too deep and too hurtful for words to think we can not receive the messages intended for us. There is much to be learned from the singing of birds and the harvesting of fruit. Our true text is the book of nature. Our cousins are the plants and in many ways our progenitors for without them there would be no oxygen to breathe. And what insanity that we cut the trees down for profit. Truly they are our lungs, we are utterly dependent upon them for breath…and we cut them down. What dangerous self-destruction. What is truly frightening is that the Creator, Pachamamma will not be put aside, will not lick Her wounds in the last untouched places, no, She will resort to other means of communication to get through to us. Disaster, flood, famine, pestilence, suffering and war…these are all the products of not being in alignment, of cutting ourselves off from our teacher and savior, cutting ourselves off from the energy that loves us absolutely and made us perfect.