all the things that a mother does
a loving touch, a hand that heals
I wouldn't know what that is like
I wouldn't know how that feels

she is just another stranger
though, the vessel of my birth
she never did what a mother does
though, she put me on this earth

I felt a bond when I was young
but that bond faded away
these words only burn my tongue
"happy mother's day"

Sometimes I feel
that what I have
so closely
right next to me
is so very far
there is distance
that cannot even be
named
while inside me,
a wildness
that cannot be
tamed
and I long to
break free
travel to far-off lands
get closer to
myself
as I take the spirit-reigns
into my own hands
And all the while
as I wait
trying to find that
perfect moment
for escape
I gather the warmth
and light around me
wrap it around as one,
close energetic blanket
let it charge me up
refill the spots
that have become
empty
rejuvenate that
private inner sanctum
that so few can see,
those who know
and understand
the irony
for on the circular map
marked in cities, towns
and roads
are the ones physically far
who hold me so very close
the ones who know my mind
the workings of my heart
who help gather me into wholeness
when the seams threaten
to rip apart
They know
the meanings of the ways
that this heart spills into verse
and I see how physical proximity
can be a blessing, or a curse
because when it's an illusion
it cuts right to the core
stirring up pure loneliness
bringing longing to the fore
a heightening of confusion
when the door slams in your face
and you wonder why, in your home
you can feel so out of place
And so I bless this map
mark with pins my states of love
countries and landscapes of kindness
felt through the airwaves above
and with my own love in return
I immerse all the beautiful souls
We all share the struggles and victories
provide calm
when it's out of control

I cast forth my heart to you
Let it crackle through the wires
its electricity connects
and like magic,
sweet
love
          transpires

You are song,
Rain dropping on still pond.
You are sky,
I see Heaven in your eyes.
Your are peace,
A garden above the world.
Your are grace,
The gentle path of the swan.
You are knowing,
The wind that whispers alone.
You are star shine,
The dust that lights the plains.
You are vast ocean,
Mother to the Fathering atmosphere.
You are dancing light  .  .  .

Why try to construct with words
      What the Spring blew
Between storms and kisses
      Thorough your memory,
On old paper?

The tongued fire that speaks
     The dense desire to the lover,
Is now only descriptive descendant
      To what was....

Poetry is the moment.

I will survive the loneliness in my heart.
If it were up to me I'd make a new start.
But there is purpose in all of this pain.
For some unknown reason I cannot explain.

But I feel a peace coming over the horizon.
And it will no longer leave me frightened.
As I keep pushing on and moving with grace.
And in the right time I will find my place.