Dear child

Dear child, servant of life,

here with you by the fire 

wrapped in your buffalo hide

as you sleep on my shoulder

I am in heaven

my heart ablaze

with a soft delight

And tomorrow

when you fly back

into your wild and shining life

crossing the miles of highway

and mountains upon mountains

and chasms black

with night and stars

then I will be lost 

in sweetest grief

and wonder

always cherishing you

Dervish

Letting go

I fall

And fall

And fall

Spinning

And twirling

And at peace

Falling

And falling

And falling

Spinning 

And spinning

In sweet

Abandon

I twirl

Down

And down

And down

Into 

The luminous

Dark

Everything

for my friend SK

You call me up

to ask about the ratio

of beans to water

and when i don’t know

having always used

canned

you tell me

how grateful 

you are

for Life.

Life has brought you

not only joy

but also sorrows

that left you shattered

and bereft -

yet your grief flows 

in a canyon

full of flowers.

Now

as you consider the bathing

of the beans

you tell me

how grateful you are

for Everything

God has given you:

for the amaryllis 

blooming on your patio,

for the filthy man

with his cardboard sign

whom you embraced

to the horror

of your fainthearted friend,

for animals 

and the wonders

of their lives

revealed on TV.

Over and over

your voice breaking

under the weight

of your love

you pound it into me:

Do you realize

that God has given you

Everything? 

Do you hear?

God 

Has given you

Absolutely

EVERYTHING.

And I listen

and try my hardest

and maybe 

I will never 

fully grasp this truth 

but I’m so grateful 

you do

and i hope you will keep

translating for me

until the end of time.

Eyes

Eyes

are private.

If someone catches you

Looking at them

And your two sets

Of eyes

Lock

For an instant

You both

have to look away

And pretend 

It was a mistake.

But if you ever

Are able to look

And be looked at

In return -

Oh, such 

Unbearable beauty!

Love Poem

Two leaves 

Grew side by side

On a branch

And when 

Their summer ended

They fell

One after the other

Into the river below

And began their journey

Toward the sea.

Carried on the gentle depths 

Now together, now apart

Each executed the movements

Granted by the current

In her languid flow.

And when

Once in a while

They chanced to swirl together

They would converse 

Of the beauty of the river

And the greatness of the sea

And the wonder of water

And of atoms and molecules 

And the empty space 

In between.

Love Poem to a River 

Glittering

The water flows

Carrying the silence

That is inside the world

On the surface

Leaf and needle swirl

Now together

Now apart

Borne on 

Bell-clear depths

Empty and full

As my heart

River after Drought

Bursting with the exuberance of Being

Unable to hide any longer

The child El Niño comes running 

Out of the closet

Here I Am!!

And in the blink of a cloud

The trickle has leapt to a flood 

And the coyotes are singing 

On the banks of a mighty River

Weird voices caught in a moonbeam

The Dark

The Dark 

Was lurking

Just behind my heart

Wanting in.

So long ago I’d locked her out 

Afraid of her icy touch

And the agony of her fear

I kept her out

In the cold

Behind my heart

Until at last

Her knocking

Boomed so loud

In my fragile brain

That I stepped out a moment

Into the rain 

Of memories

To tell her to shush

And take a nap somewhere

Under a bush 

But instead of a nightmare

I found someone helpless

Tender and

In need 

Of tenderness.

Then, feeling a fool

Come in, it’s warm inside

I said.

Join me, even share

My bed.

Which is what she did

And now she keeps my house

Free of moths and dust

And dirty pots

A sensible and sensitive lass

She will never leave 

For she has my good

At heart

Tucked up her long

Dark sleeve.

The Endless Hotel

I was trying to be happy by keeping the bad stuff out, by telling myself only good stories about myself – stories with my favorite people, in the sweetest circumstances, with the luckiest turn of events. Stories with no disease, no accidents, and no death. 

I knew it wasn’t working. Even if bad stuff didn’t happen, I knew it could. Abominations could happen - the  kind of thing that only is supposed to happen to other people could happen to me and my loved ones, and nothing I could do would stop it. 

In fact, the more I tried to keep the bad stuff out, the worse it got, till the bad news was pounding on my basement door, trying to force the windows.

And on top of that, it was making me miss the good stuff. I thought I'd be safe if I shut my eyes and stoppered up my ears and hid in my cellar - but I couldn’t see the sun, or hear the birds, or feel the breeze. I couldn’t look in a loved one’s eyes or feel their touch.

Finally I opened the window, just a crack. And the light came in, and the shadows. The shadows were gloomy, but the light was delicious, and warm…

So I opened the door, and then all the windows, and started to let everything in. 

That was when I realized how much room there is in here. It looks like this hotel has endless capacity – not just for the wealthy, or the clean and sober, or people with the right skin tone or the right beliefs. There’s room for everybody in here – all species, and all kinds of individuals – moral and immoral, fortunate and destitute, bag ladies and abandoned children on drugs, monsters, and serial killers, and dictators, and stupid people and geniuses. And not only all kinds of people, but all kinds of events – horrible misfortunes, crazy accidents that spare only the mother, and strokes of wonderful luck, true love and betrayal, exquisite meals and food poisoning. 

I’m letting them all in, not because it’s fair – it isn’t.

I’m letting them in because it’s Life. All one package.

So we’re opening our doors – opening them wide, and building a new wing, and building up, up, up, toward the Heavens – and down, down, down, into the earth, into the caves where there are dragons, into the clockwork that makes the earth turn.