The Earth Turning

-------The Earth Turning-------

Our lives spin around

upon a fine 

and fragile point.

Over and over.

The tide turns a broken bottle into sea-glass.

I have walked through graveyards in Spring,

down dark, forgotten trails

lined by nettles and wineberry,

over hills, alone

and into hollers,

and I have been kissed

by the greatest 

beauty 

this world 
has ever known.

The sun will rise, no doubt.

If you sit quiet

you can feel 

the Earth 

turning.

-------

Longest Night

-------Longest Night-------

From the longest night

a beautiful, little seed

rises with the Sun.

-------

A Rose

-------A Rose-------

Sorrow 

need not be 

just a thorn,

but a gentle reminder

to take care

with the awesome 

beauty

at hand.

-------

Vocation

-------Vocation-------

Know me

as I know myself

better in the garden.

Forgiving my name to the Earth

and my plans to the movement of the seasons

I dig

bare-handed and grateful to the cold

for this chance to feel.

I am here

and very far away

seeing and unseen

like a memory on the surface

crouching humbly before death and life

and planting seeds

into a thousand years

of rebirth.

This is spirit taking shape.

Know me

true.

-------

A Tavern

-------A Tavern-------

When the entire world is your best friend

solitude becomes a tavern

where we meet

and prayer

the wine we drink together.

I am not alone here.

Quiet, yes, 

and waiting for your golden presence 

to fill the doorway.

I will smile

and we will dance into a spiral,

atop chairs and tables built by patience, 

forgetting the time,

until the whole room fills with light.

And we collapse.

Side by side.

At home.

Complete.

-------

A Light Through the Cracks

-------A Light Through the Cracks-------

A waxing moon takes over the sky tonight,

   like a great heron's wings,

unwilling and

   opulent.

Upon an air of joy

   we slip through the cracks

together

   out across 

      this beautiful land.

-------

Without a Name

-------Without a Name-------

Without a name

I step across the line that makes me human;

forgiving my purpose to everyone 

and everything

unknown.

Please, Dear World, 

do not mistake my absence for betrayal,

for I seek communion in solitude,

as the empty sky is filled with stars

of a kind we cannot ever see.

-------

Atop the Water’s Edge

-------Atop the Water’s Edge-------

Night is quiet before the frost

as if the lake swallowed every song 

and holds them

for the morning

When mist performs an alchemy of sound

for all those who convey the song

and for all those 

who listen.

-------

Into Light

-------Into Light-------

To be free of this skin 

for just a moment.

Into light 

or a grain of sand.

The moment 

becomes eternity

and I

again

what I have 

always been.

-------

Dear Moon

-------Dear Moon-------

You've come back, dear Moon.

Light of a revolution.

Full 

   and loving 

      us.

-------

An Autumn Prayer

-------An Autumn Prayer-------

Nightbirds tag along beneath the silver moon.

A shimmer of Winter.

Delicate.

At dawn,

I walk into the woods,

down, along a hill

of red and golden maple,

into mist and amber dreams

where the beeches hold the green.

I do not wish to hope,

nor to be still

while the world counts down the days.

I wish 

to fly with the seasons

so gently and quiet,

as a leaf 

falls.

I pray.

-------

Potential

-------Potential-------

There is a tree inside 

this little seed;

a forest

in a

handful.

Solidarity speaks in rhythms 

of Autumn;

the pieces fall 

and rise 

to meet the whole 

again.

A forest

inside

a 

little 

seed.

-------

Promenade

-------Promenade-------

My desire to be alone

is no match to this starry night.

For I cannot help but feel

that I am dancing

with the whole,

entire

world.

Slowly turning

hand in hand

   in petal

      in claw.

A promenade

around

the sun.

-------

Eclipse

-------Eclipse-------

A moment

away.

Perspective renews.

Purpose. Prejudice. Time.

All our world has ever known

is tonight but

One

golden shadow

upon the stars.

-------

Remember Kisses

-------Remember Kisses-------

This morning, upon the regular path,

the regular cobblestones, 

the regular voices,

seemed, with a newness, to shimmer.

Maybe it was the youth of Autumn

playing with the light as it does.

Maybe it was the dream of meeting in the hemlock trees;

dark and moist, the fragrance of decay

that lingers with me still 

as I walk.

I think of you

and I stop to watch a leaf fall, 

slowly, a hundred feet 

in the air to the ground.

I remember 

kisses

and color 

returns to the shadows.

There is so much 

to notice.

There is so little 

to truly know.

We are empty

and ever-changing.

No matter how 

we see it.

-------

The Bean Harvest

-------The Bean Harvest-------

The momentum of progress slows 

in the mind of those 

who hear the threshing sticks,

who have seen the dance 

shake loose a hundred seeds 

borne from one.

A promise turns to an Autumn wind 

and carries the empty pods 

into a meadow of golden rod, 

gold and green

the callused hands

the rhythmic earth

together manifesting 

a memory 

of home.

-------

The Space Between Us

-------The Space Between Us-------

 Within the space
between time
and distance

A chestnut falls and grows
a thousand
trees
across
eternity.

What then
are age and separation
to soulmates?

But a body
not yet
given
to
the stars.

-------

Your Treasure Chest

-------Your Treasure Chest-------

You need not work so hard to prove yourself,

for you are

truly

worth nothing, Dear One.

Ambition alone

will sell your body to a cause;

your mind unto heroism;

your focus down the barrel of whatever weapon it is that you hold.

But the diamond
in your chest
cannot be bought.

You are strong, Soldier,

and braver than most.
So come home.

Come in

to where your bravery,

and strength and ambition

may meet with empathy,

And replant these hillsides

left rootless

by the lonely merchant

of war.

-------

Dominique Christina

-------Dominique Christina-------

Your work is like a Yarrow seed that seeks the battered earth to set its roots into.

Its tiny, fragrant flowers and leaves becoming
to reflect the nature of the medicine within;
a tonic for the blood

that has thickened in the veins of this country.

Your work is the vocation of a poet walking
barefoot across stones to the spring.

A truth of word and water pure draws the light from its source
and into a cup,
for us all to share.

Dear, brave resistor

I thank you for not going passively through this life

but rather for filling your seed pouch
with its many graces

and healing our wounds with your voice.

                                                                          -------

Good Medicine

-------Good Medicine-------

I speak about emptiness and sorrow
not because I am sad,
but because I feel a deep need to go

where I have been told I shouldn't.

This is not
mischief out of anger,

but a resurrecting
from ignorance.

I am a rascal in love,

picking weeds
in the dark
to make us tea.
 

-------