post dates post

More than a year

and no letters dropped to past or future me.

No heart break spilled on empty page,

No breakthrough caught and held.

What stopped the words from taking shape and thoughts from stopping by...

A too-much time or not enough, 

No unrequited love. 

love-fire haiku

The embers take time-

We find kindling, logs, a cup

to hold the water.

A circle of stones,

Offerings into the mouth,

We wait for wisdom.

How many hot sparks,

Without fuel or a keeper,

Burned or died too soon.

dedication

It's twenty years and 

Sometimes my feet can bear to touch the ground,

Feel my longing rooting,

And taking shape,

Where once

Your hands 

So kindly

Pulled weeds and turned soil and planted.

Let's me draw memory up,

From the bitter root

Waiting for it to rise in its own time

Unfurl to the air and sun

Drop seeds of hope

And take rest  

And birds- all body, wing, eye

I see them now.

Such courage, such sensitivity, briefly touching this dimension. 

From daybreak till sundown offeirng their serious, delicate love, like you did. 

Dissolution

You're veiled to me,

And this spell 

Is old and potent still.

The roots are dug,

The path is closed,

By measure of my will.

Dandelion for slights and hurts,

Rosewood for a balm,

Yew and Oak and Pine are called

Let karma have her fill. 

When witches' love turns on the wheel,

It cannot be undone.

What's lost is lost and what once was

Has faded in the sun. 

What's left in ash,

In gut

In throat 

I offer to the moon.

Let something good and something strong 

Grow from these threads anew. 

Devotion

Thou are my rock, my stone pasta

In times of little, and less.

Thou my water, in arid scrub

Parched and lonely. 

Thou my breath, incense and wind

When I cannot pray.

Thou are the spark in every cell of every life,

And in mine. 

Day of Rest Sunday 22nd September

Your warm presence

reaches me,

through skin,

through breath,

through mouth.

The flower of the heart,

opens,

the scent of love hangs between us,

we rest.

morning devotions 1

Why do the eyes of my heart not see that I live in a world,

filled,

with the friendship of the spirits, 

the gifts of the Tao moving with me and all who've come before and after me, 

how I exile myself from my own soul,

caught at the gate of my mind,

longing to cross over.

Where does the courage of my heart make a shield before me,

a sword,

to divide and cut me from the cloth of Existence and my own beginning and end,

how I kill myself to save myself,

a water drop at the estuary,

already dissolved into ocean. 

And yet with fire, air, water, earth

I remember 

I feel

I worship.