One beam of morning light
blesses a simple kitchen apron.

Standing here, and only here,
the whole world is made
of small, white petals.

On a day much like today,
infinity became my home.

Bundled into my blankets
seated yet floating
in unbounded bliss
My stomach says:
"Feed Me!"
and I do.

Moon smiles sweetly as she rises in the East,
Orion slips sleepily into the West.

With so much tragedy all around us,
how blessed to find peace now
here, above us.

..Mars..
..Venus..
..Jupiter..
..Moon..
Line dancing
...together...
just hours before dawn.

Tonight,
take me with you!

I promise not to tell
where your secret dance hall is hidden....

A young pandit
with infinity
in his eyes
smiles

When I ask
if I may pour
the holy prasad
into the roots
of the sacred
Peepal tree

The heart-shaped
leaves dance
as I approach
silk sari
fluttering
colors

They dance
before
and
after
dance
always
all is bliss
to the devas
of this lovely tree

You know the feeling, dear
Lover of Words.

Sounds of syllables
rolling through your mind
like deliciousness itself.

Sometimes it's just the sound, then a glint
of meaning smiles at you, inviting you.

Lifting it gently, like a sleeping child
you listen for potential phrases,
sentences emerging from within her dreams.

Tuck the covers lightly
around your new poem child,
and may the Muse of Words
favor her, and you.

Monotone, mechanical, voices,
issuing from junior aliens in their
junior-alien gladiator-space-helmets,
spoke that now famous sentence
to the children of my generation
in Saturday morning cartoons.

Was this actual, hidden wisdom,
meant for us to remember years later?

Resistance,
in our personal lives,
to the behavior
of those around us,
usually just causes that behavior
to become more entrenched.

Did intelligent, actual aliens,
feed this message into
our childhood consciousness?

I smile to think so.

Write lines upon my heart
in pure white light
and I will read them
  
Taste the nectar
of unbounded
sincerity

Breathe in blossoming
warm compassion

Taste the nectar
of unbounded
sincerity

Touch the tender pool
of infinite white light
    
Breathe in blossoming
warm compassion

Taste the nectar
of unbounded
sincerity

Meet me in the air space
between your thoughts
For this is holy ground

Above and beyond
its manifest colours,
is the hottest part of the flame.

Patiently, and with trust,
bring the sacred frankincense
within your heart
to the invisible fire, and
it will be ignited
in this most intense heat.

That is the searing power
held only by Divine Love.

It is thus that human love
is purified, gains
dignity of purpose,
in the arms of the magnificent,
all-encompassing love of God.

First snow is falling...
melting on the wet road,
flocking the grasses
and crispy leaves.

Smiling sweetly, my
brother eats his last bite
of warm corn pancakes.

Local honey shines
on the empty
white plate.

In meditation it happens
quite often
abstract
bliss
finding its way
into an
unconscious smile.

Smiling in my sleep
begins with you
and your
lovely kindness
finding me somewhere
in my unexpecting
grateful day.

This was true news today:

"A gigantic hole in the sun's atmosphere has opened up
and it is spewing solar wind toward Earth."

"Earth could be inside the solar wind stream for days."

It got me thinking:

What about the solar wind stream
of your mind, blowing poems down to me
from way up North?

Bright lights in my brain are set off
as I do my best to match
your inspired words.

On a New Year's Day in Reykjavik
I stood at the very top of that old city,
intending to visit the Cathedral there.

All at once, there it was. And it was in charge.

A gust of wind so strong that it grabbed and
  slid me, speeding across several metres of ice,
only to slam, face first, into the broad chest
of a resident British Embassy staffer.

Genially, he smiled down and introduced
himself with gentlemanly aplomb.
No wonder they had an empire. At least for a while.

Oh, that wind! Ever seen snow moving horizontally?
Or felt a hole being drilled, in one ear, almost out the other?

Deep in the ancient countryside, on the way to the sea,
is a lonely valley, held captive by the power of a brutal
Gigantic troll. There, this wind has its greatest rival.

Even if you can't see them, just tell me you don't feel them...

In Reykholt now, that bullying wind buffets a cozy house,
but to no avail, for angels watch over a newborn baby girl.

Her mother, just a girl when we first met,  
now sings tenderly to her own new daughter.
Both are princesses of this beautiful island country.

Finding kindness, that tough old wind has sent
Halldora's lullaby across the open ocean,
  over wide blue skies, and onto this snowy prairie
where I hear it and cradle it softly, and so gently, to my heart.

When the air
is brightened
by a visit

It welcomes
this new
presence

Abiding in
its own
sweetly deep
silence

This sunlight
has its own
delicate
sound

Anticipatory quiet,
and the gathering fullness
builds upon itself in secret,
unknown ways.

Here in this old kitchen,
morning finds you in a shirt
silkscreened with one distant
cluster of stars.

Emblematic, a medicine shield
guarding a silent, wise heart
equally full of light.

That day, something got into me.
Approaching the corner of 155th
and Broadway on the Upper West Side,
my friend and I were only a block from home.

Either we'd been on a mission for candy necklaces
or bubble gum cigars, from the place where the guy
was always grumpy, never actually scary,
and the sawdust on the floor, the real cigars
in fancy boxes, were something to wonder about.

Or we had just scored our first fresh sugar canes,
one each, and much taller than either of us.
The kindly Puerto Rican green grocer, proud
of his new shop, hoped we'd try the plantains
too, getting a kick out of our delight
in what he'd always known.

The light was red, and we weren't in a hurry.
I just got curious about this trap door on the side
of the old cast iron signal post,
and decided to see
if it would open... and it did.

Smiling to myself, an uncommon, delicious
sense of mischief lighting me up inside,
I calmly flipped a switch.

Instantly, all four lanes of traffic, heading north
and south on Broadway came to a screeching halt.

The feeling of power was intoxicating.
And unforgettable.

Had I been an older kid, had the policeman
who happened by been less lenient, had anyone, God forbid,
been injured, I could have been in some serious trouble.

Injury never entered my mind, and maybe the officer saw that.
All in all, I got away with the only really naughty thing
I did as a child, and still get to smile.
And remember.

Halfway around the world
and here in my heart, dear friend.

Writing brave, wise poems,
so vulnerable, so original,
inviting us into your life and home.

Early this morning, a flash of red
shone at the very top of our oldest pine
like some tropical bird, here by holy magic.

The tail, in fact, of one triumphant,
energetic little squirrel, bright sunlight
transforming that waving tail
into a banner of joy.

"Sally", I smiled. Somehow
it was you, sending me another delight
in this morning display.

Rosalia, a sweet garland of God's own goodness,
connecting us with grace and cheer,
all time zones made as one.

Our beloved poet brother,
light warrior, musician,
has gone on ahead of us  
into the realms of light.

Fierce, funny, loving,
you redefined courage
as you battled your final
foe. He didn’t really win,
because you shine evermore.

Even as we celebrate
your beautiful life,
knowing you are free,
our hearts still ache
and we miss you, being
here, on Earth, amongst us.

The body, when
it's fasting
becomes so aware.

Holy Light
of
Life

Beyond
and
Before
all
Time

Light of Absolute
Truth

Embrace us
in
Pure
Radiance

Keep us
Free
from
Darkness

Keep us
Free
in
Your Love

Keep us
Free
in
Blessedness

Light of Absolute
Truth

We Shine On
Now

Holy Light
of
Life

Feeling good
in my skin
today.

Like a
well-scrubbed
potato.

Sweet tamarind pods stick to the warm black tarmac
where fortunate doves wander about in the shade,
trilling to themselves, and each other.

Either something strikes them as funny,
or they just love their easy lives.

Certainly, they sound so different from their
modest cousins, cooing sadly in colder places.

Born here in Paradise, these birds wear blue
eye shadow every day, and not just on weekends.

Late afternoon finds me in their lazy midst,
hair wet and curling, sand stuck to my bare, tanned feet.

From the door inside your mind that opens on today,
on over to the bend in the road that was unforeseen,
is the greatest, most joyful adventure ever,
and it is all happening here within you!

Find yourself in the territory of untamable goodness,
And the freedom of that exquisite sweetness on your tongue!

Never be afraid, ever again, to write down your deepest heart,
To speak your most illumined, unbounded mind!

Every color, every sound, every kiss, every cry, every life,
All of everything is here to be honored, for just what it is!

*Hug your own heart as no one else can, until or unless
Someone comes along to do it better, but just keep writing!

Out of midnight sky
unboundedness
one
dusky bluebird flew
straight to me.

Spreading his perfect wings
across my heart
I felt his feathers, felt his heart,
beating with my own.

"I will not leave you now."

"You have finally understood."

"And you have won my trust."

*"For always."

This jar of honey
still wears the scent
of flowers
visited by local bees.

A generous gift
  more precious still
this trust
you gave me
resting here while
you were healing.

These words, floating to the surface,
come from amongst an ocean of others.

Sleeping, ripening, unformed,
swimming in darkness, some rising
into green, translucent waters.

Titles, remembered images, voices
of loved ones, colours, scents,
secret moments never spoken aloud.

More, and more still, residing,
unseen, unheard, unknown
beneath this iceberg of words.

The moon, just now
is a cradle full of milk
pouring sweet glowing soma
into our drowsy hearts
rocking us so deeply into sleep
and the gentlest of visionary dreams

Say what we mean.
Say what we must.
Honor the poets' code with
every word we write.
May our muses bring us authenticity!

Way before people in human form,
we existed as air and light.

Lavender lights in the northern regions
called to each other, and we responded freely.

Sound sounded differently then, reaching
inside our airy souls, overarching temporal existence.

Dancing through infinite space, leaping beyond knowing,
we became pure unfettered feeling.

Come across the threshold of light, riding on your smile.
All that was then, is still our ancient home.

Whatever is poet within
me, in this time of hurdles,
Issues from my mind
as images, mute.
Gazing directly back at
you, intimate, silent.
Speaking into your own
apertures, inviting contact.