God-Mother / God-Father
Bear down on me
Birth me into all You wish me to be:
Coming towards you
Coming into me
I know you celebrated before I
Was even conceived
I can see you turning spindles of names
Until you turn my name
Into your breath of me.
My name: both appointment & anointment, I Am.
CoINcidence / CoinCIdence
Seems to be the emphasis can go either way, one being an
The other an alignment of two paths.
Coincidence is not coincidence,
They cannot even exist in the same plane
Without interfering with each others’ warp & weft
Not to mention homeostasis.
They are, perhaps, a law of similars, called
In from the Jesters’ Universe …
After you toss your life at the wall or
Find a way to re-begin from where you are.
Keeping From the Eye of Horus
There are better things to do with my time
Than live in any rebellion
Past the stone walls of who I claim to be
Unilateral inner boundaries
Free to be the postage stamp home.
Attention does need to be paid
We can’t afford to miss much more than we already have,
Before the change of chance & chance of change
Diverge in some lonely wood.
In the same moment, when we cannot either breathe,
We are connected by a fiercely fiery sending:
“Watch me, Baby, just watch me!”
The highway of life is a toll road, indeed.
We are the vols & sometimes it’s not to be believed:
stuck in the laundromat instead of a lifeboat.
Each episode we get to retool the set.
We arrive here curled into a fetal spiral
So well-salted, we match the ocean.
The rest of your life is the Unfolding of it.
An origami of an Avatar.
Some familiar clues / cues
(like enough for an army to follow.)
Status points for not opening the Guidebook.
Eyes Open. Tulku.
Another of those words
Hanging overhead like
Ready to clear into tomorrow
Of the deed done today.
You Call This A Mind?
But everything is right there, on the surface.
Don’t you put anything away?
More likely, you put it down without thinking
(Sometimes I lose major organs that way.)
I entered this Life with a full wall of medals
Later stripped one-by-one
I’ve done my time(s)
I personally have only two thoughts left
Here, Put This In Your Heart
All the texts
Say, “you can’t take it with you.”
You mostly get to keep some essences,
Ones with evocative & menacing overtones.
The heart is about long-term Memory
Your heart is as big as your God
Who tucked you in between the angel’s wings
With a touch to your cheek, saying
“Don’t you miss a minute! I’ll expect a full report!”
I may be the only person on earth who has, yes, here it is, forgotten how to ride a bike.
Make This Viral
I want to be there when the grandfathers tell their peace stories.
“Where Have all the Flowers Gone”
I cross the bridge over a rushing Percha Creek
Glancing into it, mid-stride.
I see three young bucks,
Heads twisted over shoulders
Rumps all twitching in time
Not till they face forward
Do I see the burgeoning racks
Still in velvet, flaring in the little light
As, springing onto the low bank, they disappear.
But, Really, I Love You
I conclude two Italian women cannot talk to each other
Without taking turns at being child, maiden, crone all in one conversation:
Whoever is speaking is in charge…
Not the only person… just the second to admit forgetting how to ride. 🙂 🙂