Moments

IMG_1686Moments

Sweet smell of orange
lingers on my tongue,
in simple glistening moments.
Astir, the waking of a sleeping babe.
Soft and pink,
curled like a kitten.

A passing flit of wings.
Thoughts so thin they stir the heart.
To flutter in opening,
like waves crashing on a stone
cave in the ocean.
The foam frothing,
seething, receding.

The swaying of soul,
in days these first.
From taught worry mixed with panic,
to pure gold bliss, and
love so wide,
it knows no boundaries.
Wings dark. Wings light.
The fluttering of eyelids.
Ours and the tiny one’s.
In delicious moments of sleep,
like wine drunk sips,
pulling me under.

The moon now setting,
a glow of silver cast on sleepy skins.
I awake to the purity
of the morning light,
touching forms distant in the folded night.
I patter to the kitchen in search of food.
Our grey cat my ally.
Only to return to warmth of skin
moments later. In this
morning in time.
I stir to the call within.
The unknown, yet known,
voice of motherhood.
Deep in my chest,
buried like a well hidden secret.
Under the cave in the ocean,
where the waves of time crash.

In Love

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In love with the pulsing ripples.
In love with the waxing flush
of belly round.
In love with Moon so bright,
her pure face eclipsed by the earth’s
shadow of gold, tonight.
In love with creation happening
mysteriously,
as woven within me.
In love with the smile of him
who surrounds me.
A caress so tender,
my sensitive skin responds
like the veined skein of an orchid leaf.
In love with the sun’s rays
kissing my limbs.
In love with the deep blue sea
crooning us to sleep at night.
In love with the flowering trees,
whose fragrance fills the night air.
Magnolia, plumeria, jasmine, orchid.
I am in love.

My Name

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I searched and found that I have a name of kings. In an ancient language it means gift. It was chosen because in my father’s mind it was associated with outlaw. My parents were smitten by the rebellion and freedom-searching of a generation that wore flowers in their hair.

Along with my first name—a short name with lots of sound, a boy’s name in a girl’s body—came my second, or middle name. This was a cool sip of water that had Gaelic origins, and whispered and sighed, saying yes to unity and divine power. It welcomed all the gods, and spoke of its feminine gentleness.
Together, I was one. Clad in both my costumes, I became whole. I contained the sun and the moon, the male and the female. I had strength, frailty and awareness. I was the giver, and the taker. The fountain of life from whose source clear water sprung for others to drink. The one who also drew in and absorbed, and perhaps often, redistributed in one form or another. Sometimes form became ethereal, and in its diaphanous shimmering it sang into the moonlight, evoking an echo from a distant land that resonated over time. Who are you? Speak my language…
Growing up I always wanted to be a boy, and yet have come to find myself in my woman’s body and mind. A revelation in happening, I became who I was meant to be. I have walked on many paths, and am now finding the road that leads home. In its authentic moment of genesis my destiny was chosen and prescribed. My identity was written in my name—short sounding and sliding in its simmering emphasis.
Followed it was by a long whispering and secret sigh. This word was humble, and yet stood apart defining the identity of that which came before it. It made me a woman in my boy’s garb. Somehow it was my true calling and, if I could, I would have chosen it as mine—as a way to make myself known to the world around me. Not as a boy, a bandit, but as one who spoke truthfully, who in her wholeness contained wholesomeness. Who could describe the rainbow in its evanescence, and sit by the side of the river contemplating the passing water, and its shore. In that relationship—of shore and ocean—I found devotion, and also my true love, whose name speaks of salvation.
It was later, when I discovered in the gift of my name a most profound essence that had meaning beyond words. It signified that I was the bridge between opposite shores. I could speak both languages and make hands shake. Peace was in the making. I contained the power of the gift and was able to receive it.

Friendship

Coffee cups clash
and music plays
in the background:
a rhythmic unfolding,
a geometry of sound
like fractals of the mind.

Voices hushed and hoarse
whispers and clamors
outside the grey street:
Seattle winter.

The siren sings of love.
In the distance I spot a friend
approaching. Movement of souls
learning to know each other.

A ripple made by a rock
in the water,
its expanding concentricity
makes me aware of space.

Magnets pulled by a force
of struggle and pleasure.
The trickle of a bead of sweat
on my skin. A pearl glistens
in the landscape of fine hairs.

Its roundness seeking perfection,
in a precarious second before the tension
gives way, where form
becomes content
and wave is water.

The boundary so fragile,
an ever becoming streamline
that connects me
to a girl in a woman’s body.

In the wide expanse
longing becomes embraced
with its shining newness.

Eyes, arms, lanky legs;
I take it in and want more.
Sharing thoughts, memories,
the feeling of affinity soars.

My heart pounds.
In an attempt to quiet it,
my mind focuses,
observes and flies upward,
over the arc of the horizon.
It swoops with eagle wings
to grasp the essence of its being:
consciousness.

Learning to sip tea. To take it in
slowly. Step by step.
To listen. To hold the other
in your presence, allowing a reflection
to flicker in the mind’s eye.

I open my eyes

I open my eyes
To the new day, new year
Sunlight pours through the window
We honor each other’s presence
And delight in each other’s arms
Scent, skin, touch
I am in love
And it wanders through my being
Spreading like ripples in my
Atomic flesh and blood
Bubbles of wholeness singing
In cosmic harmony

Hearing the words of angels
And facing all in the moment
Calm, compassionate
Vehemently happy
Life full to the brim
Of cause, desire, ideal
Truth, possibility
And yet also struggle, loneliness, sadness
Possession, envy, jealousy, greed

The shadows allowing transformation to happen
Toes of a toad
I sing to the world
In a newfound language
Hoping for the myriad colors to mesh
With the infinitesimal beauty of coral
Jellyfish, peach, blossom

The thin red line that harkens
The coming sun rising
Over the desert plateau
The rainbow arching and spanning
From my heart to my mind

I heard the mermaid echoing in the distilled blue
Saw the starfish in the underworld
And words sprang like a crocus in the snow
Gently beckoning new life
This new year
New beginnings in which the voice resounds
Clear in the stillness
As the hope for fresh tears
Dew drops of this land
Mother of my mind
One we sing in the holiness
Of all

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

Life comes in spurts

Life comes in spurts
and love in waves
my heart has twelve chambers
that open in a spiral
the doors connect to my mind
and to the solar plexus
among other things
the sedimentary of old grabs
hold of the inner folds
and exudes from my pores

fears winged and wild
fly into my dreams

my psyche feels burdened and clasped
in the wire bindings of a cage

the one I love feels distant
and yet it is I who am faraway
casting myself into a pit
escalating into the lower portion of myself
breath a long forgotten treasure