I've been traveling and quite busy of late, so it's been quite some time since I have shared here. Settling in quietly now I've been wondering which way to go--post more about some recent artwork, about the tropical garden discoveries, or so much more that's bubbling around me. But today what is rising to the surface is poetry, the words that capture the heightened state (previously, I've called it saturation) where everything seems extra charged. I always like to include illustrations too, so I offer a few here, to add to the richness and sense of fullness.
First, the joy of landing in that heightened state, just by infusing a dry leaf with color:
First, the joy of landing in that heightened state, just by infusing a dry leaf with color:
Next, some recent poems:
1. COMMUNION
The salt taste of the sea--
surprising intensity--
and my body holds it also,
that salinity, pulsing
through with each heartbeat.
And speaking of heart,
I dug out the palm stump
for the pale food within
whose name--“heart of palm”--
rings like a prayer.
Cook with ginger for this communion.
Add salt to flavor
Tasting sea, and tree
Touching into the holy being
we are part of.
2. ENTRAINMENT
The surf, tumbling over itself
like tumbleweed
The sea foam, leaping quickly
across the sand
The wind, setting this in motion.
It is thrilling
the water jumping
the ions bouncing
my bones drumming
this insistent pulse.
3. TO BE KNOWN
Oh the beauty of red leaves on green moss
of day-glow orange leaves on granite rock,
wet with rain, of daffodils waving on their stalks
and sunflower fields reaching the horizon, their
golden yellow rings framing brown and
claiming eternity
Your one and precious life isn’t yours you know,
its astonishing is-ness always a taste of
the enormous, fabulous whole,
yes, a fable, a tale of such bigness,
color contrast, to call you alive, to call
every telomere to quiver in
recognition, in resonance, these purple
sunsets, the red spots on blackbird wings,
the opalescence of oysters, abalone, sheets
of mica among brown leaf litter, creamy white blossoms
punctuating dark green magnolias,
scenting the south. Small blue bird eggs, delicate,
and blue forget-me-nots, each little petal
a symphony of shades. Jacaranda blooms, and
poinciana shower trees, red and golden, the glory
glory of emergence and oh yes it is presence, to be
known and to cause trembling, of recognition
and receiving, of this boundless love.
1. COMMUNION
The salt taste of the sea--
surprising intensity--
and my body holds it also,
that salinity, pulsing
through with each heartbeat.
And speaking of heart,
I dug out the palm stump
for the pale food within
whose name--“heart of palm”--
rings like a prayer.
Cook with ginger for this communion.
Add salt to flavor
Tasting sea, and tree
Touching into the holy being
we are part of.
2. ENTRAINMENT
The surf, tumbling over itself
like tumbleweed
The sea foam, leaping quickly
across the sand
The wind, setting this in motion.
It is thrilling
the water jumping
the ions bouncing
my bones drumming
this insistent pulse.
3. TO BE KNOWN
Oh the beauty of red leaves on green moss
of day-glow orange leaves on granite rock,
wet with rain, of daffodils waving on their stalks
and sunflower fields reaching the horizon, their
golden yellow rings framing brown and
claiming eternity
Your one and precious life isn’t yours you know,
its astonishing is-ness always a taste of
the enormous, fabulous whole,
yes, a fable, a tale of such bigness,
color contrast, to call you alive, to call
every telomere to quiver in
recognition, in resonance, these purple
sunsets, the red spots on blackbird wings,
the opalescence of oysters, abalone, sheets
of mica among brown leaf litter, creamy white blossoms
punctuating dark green magnolias,
scenting the south. Small blue bird eggs, delicate,
and blue forget-me-nots, each little petal
a symphony of shades. Jacaranda blooms, and
poinciana shower trees, red and golden, the glory
glory of emergence and oh yes it is presence, to be
known and to cause trembling, of recognition
and receiving, of this boundless love.
4. CARVED BENEDICTION
The Buddha statue, carved
as one of millions in Bali,
looks calm.
Lined up, ready to sell to exporters,
they seemed banal, formulaic drapery
and mudra fingers all the same
Here, alone, this one smiles,
sends a beam of love
soft shoulders and belly breaths
asking that suffering cease
for all.
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