Choice

from the moment I saw

the love was available

I took a step forward

and put my whole self in

this wasn’t twister or the Hokey Pokey

This was trust,

divine timing—

and faith

I chose to be transformed by fire

I chose to be a witness to your growth

and by that choice, I too, have developed.

Whenever the opportunity developes

I’ll make the same choice again and again.

My life is lived by fire

I choose fire to transform

That’s why it’s always different

Each same choice looks like a different choice

But it never is

And it always is

Something new.

I walk with fire 🔥 I blaze in its path.

I, too, am Fire.

Soul’s cry

When the soul cries in

agony

The angels wait by its side

They don’t intervene.

They watch the light

draw up upon the tears.

Then, they join in with the heavens,

and let out a gentle hum.

They call upon eternity, and

rejoice that this lasting moment

carries on into the next moment

of birth;

cycles breaking open

majestic bursts, ruptures.

the holy watching

continues closely,

and with more

tenderness than

is known.

love cannot reduce the pain,

because the pain is what

makes a new and separate creation

Love simply multiples more of itself

through witnessing

and with great care.

Lost nerve

my guitar friend

always met me after coffee

before coffee,

at age 16.

.

the problem set in

when left

and right hand

could not, would not, collaborate.

.

left hand was strong and worked

on steel strings to build callouses

while right hand got confused at the elbow, and didn’t understand heights.

.

right hand wanted to finger-pick

strum, but left hand wanted the sound of

the triangle-pick, rhythm-glides

.

both wanted to be smooth, easy,

effortless.

.

the voice was gonna unify each, because that’s where the joy is.

.

until the boyfriend kept borrowing that guitar from the dorm room.

.

but, not to collaborate.

.

no more coffee before or after, long pauses persisted barring inspiration. Voice lost, first. Then, hands lost vision.

.

whose guitar is it? whose voice lay silent? did guitar like new hands?

.

lost notebook. now no words—no longer writing themselves.

.

feeling sad,

left hand persisted with using scales

right hand clung to the only ditties it knew, fear of

not meeting the man

can’t impress him, he’s taken our guitar now.

.

not to collaborate

.

no longer playing, left and right hand don’t engage at all.

.

a cigarette fills the idle hands with its poison.

inner voice blackens with the lungs,

and the nerve to play, hangs inert.

.

maybe meet guitar again,

one day, in a new city, with

healthy vibes and broccoli breaks?

.

smiles and synergy is more like it

.

hands reach for new collaborations,

for times

when left and right coordinate, and the voice that overlays unifies with thrills.

.

right can anticipate left’s transitions and synchronize in professional, musical peace.

.

hands are meant to work together and voice will lead the way. The voice and hands connect directly to the heart.

.

there’s nothing left to say.

Ka Malana Photography
Artist unknown – “Guitar Wallpaper, Black”

Oleander

the earth pulsates

around your poison;

vessel of dogbane,

mistakenly lured by you.

an example of

misdirection.

bombs choked Hiroshima

like your white touch obliterated

the promise of love.

lust woos in silences, pretenses

nearly touched the poison

bringing broken limps into the abyss

exposing the veins of

imbalance, impotence,

flagrant misuse of power.

Home

i want to meet you in the

holy now

.

Rumi and Kabir

arranged their calendars

around the beating heart of time

Kali bespoke the destruction of limitations

.

I wiped my hard drive

tore the clutter from the cloud

and dusted under heaven

.

I dug out all the roots of that invasive

horsetail grass, a true medicine in

other contexts

.

i threw out context

.

i settled on this flower

and that flower,

.

and the flowering of you.

.

just to meet you.

☀️ 🌙

Presence

Venus returns

living without a body

may be the real body

.

actuated/destroyed

.

all is contained in the one,

who is already open

.

unboxed.

eye of ra

crescent moon 🌙

.

goddess’s breath: kinetic

.

shakti-love steers conception,

spinning the multitude of

galaxies sunder —

like cotton candy confections

each one is divided just for you to taste and describe anew.

.

her breath

set into motion,

opens the door.

.

furnishing evidence for creation,

another offer springs up

with fragrant flowers at your feet.

.

step into this ‘other’ dimension

through rebirth,

an unadulterated heaven.

.

the gateway swirls with fortitude

sewn into the fabric of dark matter,

‘behold your sacred name’

.

her galaxy’s rotational curves

are the mere eyelash-bats

of her curiosity,

a nod to wonder in a tryst of passion

.

mind’s vacated,

cavernous function

echoes grace

.

one swing of her stellar tresses

provides the light for an eternity.

.

a blink of quantum

a pinch of akash

sparkling petticoat of richness and splendor

.

her magickal presence expanding,

demonstrating, in full opulence ~

the

.

pure generosity of her touch.

⭐️

Today I shrunk 

sliced down my mass

slipped into the cracks of the floor boards and

leaned into gravity like a cannonball, but bodiless.

slumped into empty breath 

reorganized as microscopic, slippery, weightless, ether

waif of glitter

fleck of dust 

leveling with dirt, I touched space around me like 

the cushion it is, 

like the softness that any regular nothingness adjusts to,

touching itself to its oceans of surrounding twin copies

.

I felt soft and full;

and from this view,

clarity arose like the shining star

of awareness.

The body holds a prayer

Today my body has

a different prayer.

its posture is the same

its form looks consistent,

but this stem of me

is rooted

into the Earth

in a new way.

.

With roots like tentacles

that gyrate when the earth shakes,

managing impact,

adapting to terrain,

lock-step in reconfiguration. 

This is a different WAY

of holding form.

.

In her gentle vibrance,

she’s singing quietly, a hum

mmm from the glint of luminous

emanations,

the near-silence sheens flow

across the ringed-edge of activated

chimes.

Here vibrance meets vibration

in one cyclic, metallic, elemental breath

.

This breath is a request, the body a prayer

.

It is full of trust and knowing;

spacious gratitude meets patient

availability.

the vessel now is in

its holding power

knowing that she can sing for eons

.

just like this,

.

in this pose

.

in this posture

.

in this form

.

as a new prayer.

.

Singing from cavernous connection

with the Mother of all.

.

😮‍💨😌

WIP …

i could

summon you,

but you are already here

you’ve been in my shadow

clinging to my insides

waiting for my consciousness

to ripen

waiting for my signal to open up

our shared eye

with you,

all our ancient promises arise

like shoots of green tendrils

ready to break through the land

and renew our promises

for a new

peace

A retreat for being real simple

This dog.
Always a light
Pelican’s eye view
Amplifying
Heart’s acknowledgement
Lion 🦁 outside
The kindness of a gentle teacher
Chair of contemplation

The winds of mind calm

down, while

pelicans of light pass through

sweeping the air

with their flight

our

freedom is grounded and spacious

descending

through flesh and mind

a resplendent higher vision

I feel you in my soul

hugging me

intimate with me

knowing me from all my lifetimes

I invite the silence

I invite the silence 

While I’m running fingers through my hair

When I slip a dish into the dishwasher 

I open my ears, 

The sounds of clink and swish from the water

I call to what’s under that

My heart beating 

Keeping pace with my movements 

Supplying me

One moment and I’m in 

A dream

In between the turning of this page

In between the passion of dreamed kissing

I’m between the sticks that rub together making fire crackling

I’m setting the table

I’m driving the car

I’m grieving for silence

To be alone with my precious losses;

or to run from them within the quiet

Where a scream cannot escape in the same way 

Under this examination 

Under this breath

The stillness of my inner winds

I crave the silent cave

Of my inner knowing 

The moment of sweat that collects on my brow 

That elicits the wind

That joins with the wind

That feels the flush of air 

That knows spacious longing 

And a settling 

That sits with grief as a blanket 

and while I lift this next dish into the sink, full now of sacred, too

I poise it over the dishwasher 

Considering which shelf is best,

I hug myself a little more tightly

I reassure me:

The trees know you long for them, too

The grass knows your ear against the ground

Listening 

The listening knows your listening even when 

You talk past everyone in the room;

Why? 

Because you are made of earth, and she is you. And you are not a random 

Stranger to this land

Your blood and veins 

And the molecules and atoms

And smaller still, inside quarks 

You are sparkling with divine 

delight 

And your silence is indeed so spacious and filled with creation, bustling and ready to go..

If only, if only, there was a response. 

Call and response is the nature

of dance,

music,

art,

Truth.

Shakti and Shiva

Yin and Yang

Bless me with this urge to know

As it is deeply sparkling within me;

Let my longing not be an imposter for

Another distraction

But lead to all the timeless Romes..

through silk roads and deep within

the forest.

A dish is not a dish here.

I can live many lives within this one,

I can live, even, quite possibly

without you.

Atmosphere of thanks

Gaia is a gift—

This mountain lake view

Our trust in each other,

The way we are true.

I see a vision that glimmers with hope

filling my peace 🕊️ cup

May you all feel the surrender to

what is

in the warm of love

and knowing of peace.

A gentle acceptance allows

everything to transform

and if it has not yet,

It isn’t time.

Soon comes openings

Soon comes faith

Soon comes opportunities

To dance more happily with chance.

I embrace this morning mist

This lake-filled holiday

This sun-kissed day.

Hot cider

Warm coffee

Espresso is clear.

Brisk steps and pleasantly swept to breakfast

and dinner feast is near.

The edge—

There is an edge

I’m trying to soften around it,

but it won’t

relent, the me that observes it,

and so

i feel like melting, crying

to lay beside it as thin as possible

to disappear into it

this doesn’t much work

so I let it hang there as a border

I let it be

and I watch it’s ridge slice the air

into two distinct planes

I consider skiiing on it

to fling myself across its solid, icy precipice

It needs some light, I think,

some touch, some warmth

maybe just a file

I run my fingers across it,

and it doesn’t cut me.

This is a surprise.

So I find myself bringing my ear down to the

corner of time and space, this edge

and check to see

if it has a whisper.

it’s beckoning me to come closer

and to my confusion it says

“Follow… and

Keep going

even if it feels odd,

rough, or

wrong.

Trust the forward movement.”

She is my sunshine and my rain

“Bunny corn” By little K.

When love struggles

heart breaks.

echos from the past try to

flourish in new patterns

swirly emotional loudness

We do our best to

soften, gentle, ease

reminders that “never” is

really rarely ever,

true.

We did all our healing before

and somehow

there’s still more

Because life is more brilliant

than we know.

As any casualty will show

the angel points to your heart

asks you if you are

attentive to

what is not a circumstance,

is your reaction to one.

Breathe in the sounds of peace

as it’s your job to make it

be free: that mind.

measure your thoughts

against accuracy

and be obedient to your

soul’s acceptance

for love comes in forms

that marry us to the stars

forever hopeful

gazing,

And knowing

That whatever outcome may,

you gave all of your heart.

She said

“you poured all your heart into me.”

And she is right.

That is how beauty made you,

and will continue to.