a pilgrim glance
plies the seas of stillness
between us two
braves the tapestry of silence

where, in this vast womb,
sings the Heart of the world?
nothing caresses nothing

children entangled in sleep
two butterflies mingle unmade
in one chrysalis

in between. it’s in between

the Heart of the world
fjords the shores of silence.

let the woods of humanity
reveal me as i come
and enfold me as i go.

let those whom i travel with
and amongst be like bay trees,
incense cedars and lilacs
come into full bloom-
leaning toward the suns
in each others eyes.

let wendell’s ground intelligence
be clarified in and by our children,
their wisdom always surpassing
our own.

let a timber-framed peace be
built here and now and
may i aid in that
carpentry.

a veleveteen monkey
passed on today
whose fur
the world long loved away.

He left the stone
for a life of clay,
but mourn him not
as he returns
……..a different way.

i.
you are all within me.
i am within all of you.
i call this mystery: love.

ii.
we are connected.
we are different.
i call this mystery: art.

iii.
the universe is coherent
but not logical.
i call this mystery god,
but only when noone listens.

Hafiz, where art Thou?

three cities,
seven valleys,
forty rusty roads,
and a hundred-eight
passageways of this heart

metta bhavana.

looking for His tracks in
the desert,
a songbird for
company.

forty days
desert wandering
among mirages.

the taste of sand
again
and again.
finally… real water.

looking up,
the promised land
of plains and forests.

i want to send you balloons today-
balloons, and roses, and christmas cakes.
i want this very much-
to celebrate with you
the breaking of our hearts.

sometimes,
watching the light
shift from green to blue
to green
through the leaves
of silver birches…

my heart gives a little flutter.

how to describe this?

imagine:
all of us laying on that grass,
under shade of shifting nobility,
hand in hand,
looking UP.

one instead of many.
many in stead of one.

moonlight shadows.
reeds sway.
a blue heron bobs.
crickets.
frogs.

like this, to be still.

the eye is open
empty
outstretched.

the ear is full
resonant
bright.

like this,
like this.

a voice rises-
calls out to the far hill, “you
are my great caughten fish, my
mother of pearl, my
fattened calf!
now hop in my pocket, sweetheart!”
and the earth obeys.

like this,
the earth obeys.

coffee steaming on the dresser- like this.
apple blossom fragrance- like this.
dogs barking next door- like this.
a wasp sting- like this.

feeding a baby bird with an eyedropper,
a woman turns to you and simply

smiles.

the barrel smokes,
the bullet is gone.
no remnant can be found.

a moth makes out with the candle flame.
emphasis on the articles.

like this?

still tallking about the
woman and the baby birds… ?

S T O P

your breath-
can you feel it there in your throat?
does your nose itch? (now?)
can you feel your fingertips? (now?)

wiggle your toes,
friend.
wiggle em good.

i love you, i love you, i love you
like this, like this, like this.

there is mountain ash laurel
in their hair,
and salt water pearl at their feet.

ive deep kinship
with sleepwalkers-

those who cast
awakeness
like a shade
and not a candle.

those sugar pines who sing,
swaying,
to a melody
too deep to be felt
by a lesser taproot.