Overlooking a Cliff

Wonder by Alex Grey

I look into your fifteen-month eyes,
blue opals of swimming water.
In them my soul bathes herself.

Each day you bring countless
smiles to my lips.
Each day you push me to feel my edge.

Overlooking a cliff,
I have choices:
I can soar.
I can plummet.

In the first I find the sky. I face
life, enveloped in lightness. The blue air
tingles on my skin. I am present to each moment.

In the second I trudge in coarse gravel.
A weight pulls me down.
My patience is tried.
I feel sorry for myself.
I react impetuously.

Each day I witness the mystery
of your little body growing.
I see your uplifted hands,
the pink softness of your feet.

I secretly want to take small bites from you.
Maybe because you suck life, in milk
out of my body. Just nibbles.

I hear you forming new words. Each sound
a puzzle piece for the communication
forming between us.
Language, is another marvel.

I tend to you with tireless
limbs. I stay present
with all my strength.
Expanding waves ripple
from my heart.
A love so large it is
nameless.

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Sing into your light

 

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Sing into the deep December darkness.

Sing into your light.

Walk, one footstep at a time,

into your heart.

Feel the pulsing beat.

Know that you are alive.

Smile because it’s a gift.

Skip because deep down you

still are a child.

Look up, see the moon, the stars,

the forest, the mountains, and the ocean.

Thank them deeply: they are a part of you.

Embrace all of creation, every being,

every human, and animal.

Soothe your caustic tongue.

Walk deeper and past, out of anger.

Feel the love, the deep appreciation,

the belonging of one and all.

Brine

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Blue and white extend far beyond
the open sky, melting the sea,
its turquoise expanse crashing
into white waves. Bubbles of foam in a mad
rushing caress caught between water and shore.

Brine mixed with the smell of fish and seaweed
evaporates into the air.
Earth and sea emit a primal sound
that rocks me to and fro
soothing my tousled emotions.

Beyond the coastline, wild palms
frayed by the careening wind,
their fronds point arrow-like
toward the cobalt sky.

Snowbirds in groups stand huddled
and distant. They observe my approach
in a diffident stance, and shy away
as soon as I am too close.

Pelicans, one body in flight,
swerve gracefully above the horizon,
each part of a greater whole.
Their motion, a symphony in action,
touches me deep within.
A beauty so perfect
it sips of the divine
and startles my uneven breaths, caught
between whim, and insight.

Barefoot on the sand, I spread my feet
wide to the touch of broken seashells;
somewhere in between pleasure and pain,
I imagine a massage of organs churned
in the motion, and my foot opens, unfurls
distends, breathes.

The sun glows tangerine before sinking
below the horizon, pulling with it
my discomfort and any critical sense left.
As the night descends with
its loose cloak of velvet blackness,
humor enlivens my own shores:
this country of impatient physicality
now approaching acceptance.

I stand in my flesh,
more compassionate,
distilled by the pickle of vodka.

Saltiness invades my mouth

IMG_5586Saltiness invades my mouth
in a sudden outburst,
and then—as if a motion in the slow
advance of the pawns—dissolves
on black and white squares:
a game as old as time itself.

Outside the rainy day sits
with its hat on the horizon,
brooding over the northern landscape,
spruce trees swaying in the wind.

The ruthless sweep of the Queen
captures the battleground, leaving
me awash in the flood of my tears.
A small distilled ocean releases
the feathery web of inner emotions.

Above my head the stars sparkle
in a radiance invisible to my daytime eye.

We seek the language primeval.
To dance under celestial movement
of stories told again and again—shaping
and shaped—at times long forgotten.

Drops form patterns: on the windowpane,
my dotted reflection.

A knot in the thread

A knot in the thread
Woven tightly around my finger
Your name lost in the gale of wind
Howling in my ears
The crevices of my body
Grains of sand
Mixing
Blue and yellow
A trickle meshing
Green in the hourglass
They tied a knot
As I untangle my hair
Auburn in the sunset

Strands of emotions
Caught between gut and logic
Drifting away in a waning
And waxing coagulation
Of blood cells

The truth gurgles
And spouts its primal baby names
Jealousy, envy abandonment
Oh, big sounding words
Psychology in motion

The rocking horse jolts and struts
Forward and back
Within each others arms
We whisper—
A word in my ear
Soft and tepid in the morning
Like cotton candy at the fair
Pink and gauze-like
And so sugary you worry it’ll hurt
Your stomach

Lumps of undigested matter
Baggage for the homeless
How to give it away in
One clean gesture
Be rid of it

And yet that is an impossible request
To so dispose of this human fiber
Of toil and torture
That also yields such bliss and happiness

Oh but to grope
For the middle ground
In even-keeled, equanimous strides
Poised for the calling
And yet the surface is weighty
The work rewarding

When fingered nimbly
Threads
Silk, cotton, hemp, linen, wool
Raw, even artificial
Knots coming undone
And then sometimes
Braided quietly and peacefully