She Leaves

Roots reaching in Thirst 

She acted-spontaneous

Limbs longing for light.

Image of 'Bamboo Canopy' via Wikimedia Commons October 19, 2015 in Public Domain. 

Graves and Beds

Often times
of late
I sense I am
two steps,
three ridges back and
one unburnt bridge away
from living the prophecy
being held for me
in some place
I am afraid
to go out of the cave
without any possessions
fear seems rational
but staying
inside while the earth crumbles
around me
ends
one way
eventually
the choice is made
for and by us
evenhandedly
all or nothing
for better
or worse
flowers lie.

Painting by Calude Monet, 'Rounded flower bed', c. 1876 in Public Domain. 

Thor's day

Lightning likes it when we reach up to touch the sky.

And, grounded as we are

lucky in keeping our electricity contained 

and kept a safe distance from the epicenter or eye

It is miraculous we survive, sometimes, like a flash-

in the way that it is so unexpected, sudden

and unbelievable-until it occurs to you. 

Miraculum, as in the object of wonder.

It happened to me on a Thursday in February, 

just past the noon hour.

I was punched in the chest-

windswept out with words-choking on this

wonder-full revelation.

Desperately I tried to grasp my breath 

midair and stuff it back in where it stings 

and has been so hollow

and in wrestling with this 

it may have sounded like crying or rain.

But the dam lids overflowed 

and I struggled to compose a normal sound

while my son grabs a beverage from the fridge behind me, 

I exhale-steadily

as if blowing out a wish.

It was a video I was supposed to watch, assigned, as in destiny.

The woman spoke of her life, nothing like mine. 

Then she spoke of suicide and asked why, why, why-

she was not asking for forgiveness.

She traded her story with a Buddhist, 

the words he chose to frame her parable were:

"You chose Them", I coughed, she repeated, “you Chose them.”

The accusation blinding, hence the tears we blinked back.

It changes Here.

Where things are twisted 

around & 

you break the descending karmic chain
and begin Free fall.

This is when my heart plummeted like lead into my pelvis,

my rib cage closed, and I gasped one last deep breath

before being born once again

on a Thursday in February.

“This is the miracle that happens every tie to those who really love: the more they give, the more they possess.” 

-Rainer Maria Rilke

         “Everybody holds the possibility of a miracle.” 

-Elizabeth David 

 “I’ve never seen a greater monster or miracle than myself.” 

-Michel de Maontaigne

Painting by Mårten Eskil Winge (1825-1896), 'Thor's Battle' in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Plan B

All had gone according to Plan-It was confirmed.
Who made the Plan?
The one with the most Experience.
If they were experienced, why make a plan?
Things don't always go-
according to Plan,
even if it has been done (before).
Is this a new ending?
It is only the beginning.
We must Start over.
In the end...
(pursuant).


Drawing By John Bunyan [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. 

Full Title: A Plan of the Road From the City of Destruction to the Celestial City, Adapted to The Pilgrim's Progress, 1821.

A bird in the bushes

That sudden moment you realize

in full color,

Everything has changed

dramatically-

As though the view had become slightly altered

-say some trees missing over there-

the skyline is as good a place to start

against which the details are sharp-est

most vivid.

This was the moment

that would be marked

the point of divergence,

a terrain change

ahead.

All is

unforgiving in this light.

I said up and above, bellowing

over heals past keeping pace and you race

to keep flying

toward this shiny chromatic destiny as if it were all the same-

to you,

estranged.

This very moment remains

coveted yet-

unchanged by the bumps and bruises,

fallen limbs and

sin,

regardless

of it always being just

this way.

Image of artwork By Internet Archive Book Images [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons.

A-flow-T

It was up-side-down-which
is not up There
is no up-any-way
that the dhow
knew the way the wind blew
and grabbed it as the how
to get There
the Tao
and even keel held bronze pins in place
on the starboard to cease and assist
sunken ships weight and wait
with least resistance finding that
flow
feels easy like you know
down pat what is
up
either way anyway
if you don't flow
with it
you'll never know
smooth sailing up-on destiny's dhow.




Image of painting by By Maxwell, Donald [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Traffic at the Top of Privledge

It seems to be moving
                                   along quicker now.
I am not switching-indecisiveness
                                   is dangerous.
It's slow enough to look
                                   out the windows
and get a sense of where you are
and all that is out there.

Not where you are going,
                                   but passing through, some seem stalled-
but you're no expert.

That one exit is always jammed
                                   and the line continues to grow-
no matter what time.
They creep, and honk; impatient to arrive.
It does not make it faster
                                        and they act as if already too late
to gather any remaining free gifts, you keep what you reap
(and much more).

It will be nearly over when they arrive.

Everyone who invites themselves knows it
                                                                     is all in their honor.

The new King and Queen of Entitlement will be crowned!
Dunces of Deservitude!

I've never been invited, or dropped in on one of these
                                                                     formal functions
where some super special ones are showered with interest,
and accrue an air of finality and justice in their grandiloquence.

You have passed them.
They are driving their Destinies, exiting
into Karma town, talking on their iWant and
counting all the righteous people ahead of them.





Image by Marjory Collins, Traffic Jam 1943 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Haven't I seen you somewhere before

The soul divided
Twice undone
to the power of one
made whole by reflection

The moment of the shortest light
Good and Evil ebbs and flows
in the Noon and Midnight glows
your shadow hides, refusing to pose

You are still the same You
even as you grow and change
recognizing your old self as strange

A reunion of sorts
to meet in the middle
of life, like solving a riddle
reminding one of deja vu a little

Don't be afraid to peer deeply
past the pane, into the windows of the soul
while reciting the rote lines of your role
Acting like still life takes its mindless toll

Notice the view as you climb
Up, or don't and stay the same
but you cannot blame
your over elevated aim

Running into yourself
after all these years
no longer judged by your peers
or motivated by fears

Easily spooked, a sketchy outline
of who you really are
now grown older and traveled afar
mapped and trapped by your own falling star.



Image By Harrison Weir (1824-1906) "Reflection" [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Skipping Serendipity

Some glide along a smooth path

floating along without mirrors or water

under the masted will of breezy air

while Destiny draws closer

Some notice themselves in shadows

outlining the mark of forward and aft

while Destiny draws closer

starboard, a siren caught your name

Some feel their own gravity pulling

while Destiny draws closer

plunging its authoritative weight

swayed by promising warm fronts

While destiny draws closer

taken in trickles and torrents still

Some remain lost at sea, adrift

serendipity filling the mast.

Image by John William Waterhouse (1849-1917)  [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.