Heart
We talk about the “heart”.
Do we know what this place is; do we know this feeling well enough to call it our home?
When I grew up, we were not instructed in the understanding of this. The only “heart” we knew was the embarrassing crimson blob we’d see on Valentine’s cards from adoring classmates, once a year. Then, of course, the word was used carefully, guardedly, in relation to romance and those fleeting bottle-of-wine-in-the-meadow moments that often turn into jaded and forgotten memories.
And “heart”, for most of us, became an unknown item on an illegible menu in a cafe whose doors were closed to business.
Read MoreRain
This Feeling
has been described as “Rain”.
There is a sense of accumulation
in who we are, what we move with,
breathe with,
carry …
on a Daily Basis.
Humans: what we gather
and hang onto, is not usually
the good, the clean, the nourishing.
It is more often the toxic, the negating,
the poisons.
The Un-Resolved, and Never-Removed.
Read MoreThe Place of Stillness
Life Moves.
So do We.
Constantly.
Outer. Inner. Circles. Storms. Motion, commotion.
Location, place, thing, river, wind, dust. Nothing stays still.
Our mind engages. In all this movement. And man, in his blurry and distorted wisdom, seeks not only to “keep up” with this circus, but to amp it up further, to the point of madness.
Cell phones bleeping and blopping. Car horns. Animated TV commercials playing on taxi hub-caps. The blind leading the blind in a dance of Faster, Further, More, Louder, Longer, Stranger. Television content that says Nothing in ten thousand different ways. We’re a kid in a candy-store of a million choices, all of them bad for our health, all of them promising Immediate Sensory Enlightenment.
Read MoreA Million Bubbles Bursting
There is a word
called “Ease”.
This word slips from our lips like a delicious cookie, a snore on a picnic blue sky day.
We have known Little Parcels of this. How?
Often brought about by Illegal Substances, unexpected Lottery Prizes, rewards of childrens’ report cards, corporate promotions, costly Back Massages.
Read MoreThe White Dove
The White Dove
and you’re afraid to take a chance,
It is then,
that the white dove,
waits,
on a branch
When a lonely child sings,
and the sound of freedom rings,
It is then,that the white dove,
spreads its wings
When a mother smiles,
as her newborn baby opens its eyes,
It is then,
that the white dove,
takes to the skies
When a tired old man sighs,
and a soldier breaks down and cries,
It is then, that you know,
the white dove’s, on the rise
When a broken heart opens its door,
and lets the voice of love roar,
It is then, that the white dove,
soars
When hatred dies,
and we stop with all the lies,
It is then,
that white doves,
fill the skies !
I actually wrote this as a song, but it does nicely as a simple poem also.
life itself
The ways the human spirit moves, is a flag in the wind. Tibetan prayer flags high on the forbidden plateau. Proud national flags in gardens of guns and roses. Tattered artistic flags with beautiful threads of gold and silver, arcing gently in soft winds.
Flags in sunset, flags in sunrise. Flags with curious symbols; flags with ears and eyes. Flags freshly born; flags ready to die; flags at half-mast, full-mast… flags that reach for, and long for the sky.
