So it goes..

it's funny
the things that can get you down.

funny, and not really
the cracks they forge, sometimes
in the dam that's holding back the
grey,
the in-between place
of living, but not really
that floating somewhere
between responsibility
and flight
ever, dusk, not quite dawn
grey,
despite the sun's light

how much would it take, really? she asked me
to wreak havoc and create destruction?
and i think,

nothing at all, really
it would take
nothing-
just grey-blah-drifting away
and it could start the spin, and the slow
unwinding
the melting down of
all that I care about in my life,
of all that i am working so hard for.
nothing,
really

maybe i
am just pessimistic
and maybe she is hopeful,
and maybe that should slap the shit out of me, really
because she has just endured
the greatest hardship
of her life

it's funny,
the things that get you down,
and even, if
on another's behalf,
the things that bring you light.

Her

speak to me of oblivion,
of the quiet, fearful ghosts that
haunt your hours
tell me your fantasy,
and I will tell you mine

this morning
I take my leave
and find my mouth is full of
poems

rivers of thought
and word and
metaphor
have somehow
burst dams
and now threaten
to flood

you, me,
this day

your sweet nectar covered
my face
and my hands
delicious
raw and vulnerable
curious,
I am the bee
returning to the flower
your pistil, stamen, petals
drench
and enchant me

I am so taken with
you,
your nakedness in view of
all the neighbors
the way you
take up space,
neither
begging, nor
demanding.

I am

I am a flame,
 burning brightly
my womb, my belly, my heart, my eyes
navel and crown

I am a flame,
 flickering in the wind,
but never going out
I will be a faithful tender
of my soul's light
I will lovingly care for this lucito
entre de mi...

A keeper,
 of sweet nectar honey-light,
 hot sweetness pouring forth
A keeper,
 of ways forgotten and remembered,
 of my own soul
I will burn steadfastly
 a beacon in the night
illuminating the darkness of the world,
and my own

I am a flame,
 who will not go out.
Who will not go out.

on Joy, from my Dancing Time in CO

Joy pervades my being,
it infuses every cell
until it overflows
then
seeping out of my pores
it radiates
and rises

I am pouring out
a golden river of light
to wrap you in,
to encircle the world

If we forget this place
we will not have the fire to fight
to make change
we will drown in sorrow's wake

this place in me
is original and pure
it is my spirit's favorite
dwelling

as I remember,
I re-member myself

Joy is a mighty resource
it is the sun shining in my chest,
through the long, dark night

It is expansive, and warm.

the Forest on a Sunday.

I had to go away,
to be alone
in the wilderness of the world
to be able to hear myself
to recognize
the sound of my own voice
amidst the clamoring

today,
this truth.

There is nothing wrong with me.

I am whole, a circle.
ever circling
and cycling
through the layers of
my own
understanding.

I am listening.

Listening, now,
to All of me.

May I learn to greet myself
with love, acceptance,
gentleness
and peace.

Spider Lessons

I only meant to admire her
as I stepped
closer to her sinewy, shining home
when snap!
a strand breaks and
from out of me flies-
I am sorry!

stepping closer
now
to watch her

meal interrupted, she
moves quickly
to the unraveling place
it could have been the rain,
the wind,
a passing deer
to cause the strand to break and I
think, how often
this must happen

What kind of determination is this?

I watch in wonder
at
She who weaves, and
reweaves, again
her home,
her sustenance,
her web
without a complaint, or even
great pause
She returns to
mending and spinning,
over and again.