Another Deliverance

These fruitful days,
these gifts of the universe,
exceed any lonely call in the night
I might ever imagine.

The prominent grace of the high clouds
on the face of sunset is pink and gold
against the leaving of the day--
all the forgiveness I need.

No one can imagine
another deliverance
as sweet as the rising
of these stars
that gather lovers together
like it was the last day.

Until it is the end of time,
make me change my mind
with words whispered
before the rising of the sun.

Enduring

I have pursued happiness
like any woman enduring patriarchy;
men shaking their heads in disapproval.

The source of my private redemption
is the recurrence of song
and in a private voice
that often serves
females of the tribe so well.

However, I am marked by my pleasure.
I am radiant with laughter and a smile
that does not allow me to hide--
does not make me eligible for initiation
into the silences or the suffering
of the mute mothers of my lineage.

The Spirit of Holiness
stirs in my belly.  I am confused
and saved by angels and winged creatures
who lift me up like a storm around the body--
glowing and frantic for a place to find rest.

This place of rest
is strong as my grandmothers,
open as a ripe flower,
and as peaceful as our people
who walk away from all the weapons
and every tear in the fabric
of all we have ever made.

Dervish Dances

Rehearse your words of escape
by repeating the truth

that you deserve the kindness of a single hand
that has slowly been extended in love

and the palm guides movement
where torture, on toes or the small
of the back,  is never close

Laughter inflames the horizon
of each day before us
and sets the world
into the dervish
dances of the moment.

The language of movement
drawn in circles and cycles
and lightness of bodies
channeling God.





Rehearse escape inflame torture

Supplicant

Raise your glass.
There is no excuse for not celebrating
the bubbles that rise to the surface
of the clear source,
this fundamental texture
of all elements of extraction.

Place your hands gently
on my face and breathe the breath
that escapes from my lips.
The intersection of our expiration
is inspired and full of God.

Embrace me,
oldest friend,
and observe my reverence
as I fall to my knees,
supplicant to all we share
in this moment of divine love.

I am not worthy
to received these gifts placed
quietly and with no expectation
of return,
and yet, I am rich
with the abundance
of your silent intention
uttered in the warmth
of the darkness
just before dawn.

The Litany of Sleep

The litany of sleep
has me listing the ways
in which this day reminds me
of how to love the recurrent thoughts
that foster all the ways I am broken open
to simple kindnesses.

I smile at the surprise of skin
on the back of a hand
painted with flowers.

I delight in miles traveled
with renewed prayers on my lips
like honey and sweetest
water from a generous well.

I sing as if my voice is silver
slipping through a ring of birds
who bless me, sacred and wise musicians
translating joy into sound.

My breath is shallow
and whispers quietly at this opening
where the birth of a new life
is an invitation to deepest truth
that we all understand
and have forgotten how to read.

Take the pages
from the purest white.
sheets soaked
and waiting for time
to rush in,

and divide the unexpected
into equal portions
of  inhalations
and the letting go
of our grip
on air
we've already
consumed.




recurrence, surgeon, litany supreme foster

Near the Grave

The clarity of the first light of a day
is a joyful space in this year of the water snake
where the old calendars are gone.

Thoughts are smooth as the edge of  distant awareness
and this mind gallivants and dances past the quiet
of a breath, taunting with proposals and promises,
that will go nowhere. 

Sit with me
on a single branch
near the grave of true Love
and know that he was thinking of a sweet smile
gazing peacefully at the night sky
as he drifted like a sparrow
shivering away from the snow
and endless cold.

No Turning Back

Scour your mind
for the scoundrel,
the common thief who crawled
mysterious into the unconsciousness,

into the places that were neutral,
safe from intruders,
that stranger who destroyed your confidence
with so much heaviness,
the soiled weight of doubt.

That was the unexpected storm
that caught you off guard.
That was the end
of the lightness of innocense,
like clothes left hanging to dry on the line,
that uninformed confidence
that left the house without an umbrella
and was, instead, soaked to the skin
and shivering with regret.

There is no way
to turn back
in time to close the windows
against the deluge of this betrayal,
this lie that was that forgotten key
to losing everything
you thought was yours
alone to leave behind.