Tag Archives: life

Serendipity

A fugue of feathers
A tight of twine
A river stone
and totem shine

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Patterns and the Seeming Chaos

Shapes and images advancing, developing,
sometimes dissolving before ever reaching clarity.
Orphaned lines floating in the mindscape and aching for,
yet resisting connection.
It’s a wonder that anything ever manifests at all,
even more so that perceivers should arise.

Patterns and the seeming chaos are generally so subtle or so huge
that they are missed altogether.
If it weren’t for advancing perceivers
surely all the bits and pieces would lose coherence and float apart.
But, bless them full, they are, and they pursue patterns
relentlessly defining more world and
encouraging more perceivers constantly.

Perhaps patient observation is the central characteristic.
Some say it is love.
Sadly,
a few accuse them of mind-jamming or
perception manipulation
for personal profit.

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Questions Remain

The question remains, how shall we consider the things we still can’t see? The presence within and behind trees, stones, and mirrors. Only recently we began to see how perception is a contrived integration of understanding and evolutionary necessity.
Centuries unfold tides of ascribing meaning onto waves of being. It is well that things fall apart, fall to ruin, and are broken down by the fungal foundation of consciousness, to be again available for repurposing and informing the evernow. It has always been so: from Stardust thru DNA. Yet there is authentic joy in the honesty of both uncertainties of substance and in the certainties of shadows.

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Everything Speaks

Everything speaks,
The breeze,
The hummingbirds,
The gardens,
The trees,
Birds, squirrels, bears, and bees…

There are seasons when everything speaks,
That is,
Seasons when I hear them well,
Times when I see there is only one story being told and true,
Ever.

These are poetry moments.

Then there are times when I can only listen to their voices,
Recognizing the timber of truth,
But unable to discern the words.

So I walk
and listen
and let them heal me.

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Contraction Timing

You were born yesterday,
and again this morning,
and again we hope tomorrow.

Why, I asked,
are babies born so naked,
with their water flowing to ground, and
their fire flowing to sky
so perfectly — so automatically?

It creates currents that form
the multi-vortical human mindscape
where every spin the now-ist sees
as yesterday’s pre-reality.

You can’t make the same sacred snapshot twice:
no matter how terminally indignant
the weekly pattern-monger’s habit,
Love remains the fulcrum and
always moves above a still.

It’s a fragile eternity that yields
an allergy to urgency,
no appetite for the Bantu fractal or
the circumdancing flower of homo-spiritus,
or the growing rampant glory of identity
taming the local lizard.

But we can see the buds on gravid branches
all watching in their special ways
to be the stone, the bird, the tree,
the proactive jazz blossoms,
the spin-bombs of living Logos
bringing on more contractions…

First published at vox poetica.

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What Time Is It?

Today I kissed the leaves of two Oaks
One Ash, and one Redbud.

It was all in perfect glory.

So… we’re calling this “2010” …
Do you know where your Mother is?

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Meaning

Standing rigid
in the sparkling river
he grips his cup downside up.

Dry and thirsty
he gathers his resolve
and curses cups.

Right it, please, I urge him,
but the message flows off the rim
into to the sparkling river.

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Faith in Becoming

The songs we sing crawling
are not our walking songs,
which are not our swimming songs,
which are not our flying songs.

Crawling songs will stand up,
the walking songs will dive in,
and swimming songs will take wing
and sing
the songs of being
and the joy of crawling
until walking
until swimming
until flying,

and sing
the love that flies
at eye level
to any crawler, walker, swimmer, flier,
and that dances to all the songs
while imparting the faith in becoming.

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The Speed of Life

We are a vine
seeking water by root
and light by leaf.

We climb
what is
to become what shall be.

We hunt
the spin authentic
for stable fruiting.

We recognize
and learn to internalize
beauty

To verify love
and learn to share it
unreservedly.

We are systems
embedded
in holons of holiness

Awaking
at the speed of life.

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Two Pens, One Book

(for the wedding of my firstborn)

A blank book begins on a pedestal.

Knock it off.

Spill some ink

deliberately.

Life is gloriously messy,

let it know that you are

participating!

Let it know

that you have both shown up

and that your team will make its mark

immediately.

You may not always write big and bold –

but do so now!

Claim this joint territory

with some reckless abandon

while you may,

so that your children will honor you,

and learn that real authority

derives from truth,

and never vice versa.

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