increase and decrease
brilliance and shadow
these pairs appear as
wax and wane..
in her wane she
restrains that light
preparing a room
birthing again our
shadowed creation..
the blinding wax
shines then hides
then shines again
a monthly pulsation..
careful to preserve
his precious creation
cradled within..

what is sought
for grievances untold..
You are forgiven
in this moment
one path unfolds..
Or bending work
prescribed
to reach peace
for forgiver and
forgiven..
Let us ask
is this choosing
better resolved
in that place
where time and hurt
touch inner light..?
then we hear
You are forgiven
Now as
work begins...

is there
more to see
out there midst those
lonely rocks and snow..?
artists of vision
find much more..
Van Gogh's rocks and trees
pulsate color and form..
our narrower focus
reveals cold winter pain..
by widening
may we find heat
vibrating the stillness
somewhere between..
thereby we locate
where compassion lies
the joy the light
real beauty's home...

a time arrives
in each day
each moment
to locate the night..

discover in day
one brief suggestion
of night
one glimpse of sorrow
a sliver of moon
in bright daylight..

this is enough
energy and courage
to find the night
sustaining the day
and the day
the night..

in each moment
we discover a cry
of pain
of joy...

this morning
this title introduced
through some separate
synchronous readings..
the question right now
how might patience
assist with this poem..

might it be
better to stop
stop writing just now
allow some gestation
some quiet perhaps..
resume in minutes,
or hours or weeks..?

hesitation quite brief
and rough writing began..
still the end
that distant goal
an insistent completion
seemed to delay
blocking the flow..

did a fear arise
prompted by
a finish out there..
that this poem will
never find ending..?
will likely end
as discard and refuse..

a walk.. reliable antidote..
there does seem
in those sometimes
an effortless flow..
other times
impatience a mooring
so patience might grow..?

Earth and wind
gritty dust teeth sense
dry speaks...


Late day sun
small pebble multitude
each casts shadow...


Step up inhale
then down exhale
ladder anchor...


Children on trampoline
bodies straight then curved
life micro...


Sleeping bruises
a waking surprise
bruises bloomed...

this is an autumn
treeline reflection..
stark edges
demarcations of
minerals and trees..
a reminder of
other dividing lines..
as when we hear
strange notes of the
coyote's scream..
Are there other
lines to be found..?
Where are our inner
shadows and lights
so precisely bound..?

below treeline
golden aspens glow
out-lined and brightened
by the forest's black..
other glistening lights
mark rippling streams..
Meanwhile--
the cowboy poet
renders joyful lines
of wholeness
embracing all such
lights..
and timberlines...

transformations
sometimes seen as
magical events..
but let's track
a northward unity
and southward split..
one becomes three
and three one..
constant motion
these sensational trips
pulsations
found in
the heart of
cosmos and cell...

as we write..
first the whiteness
of blank paper
imagining a fullness
of joy and distress..

the white exudes
a nothingness
brimming with energy
awaiting a word
the word emplaced
seeks direction..

to join with others
to rise and return
or to decompose
to fall and spread
colored differences of
new creation..

the path of this
lone word
seems quite beyond
a writer's choice
who in surprise
learns the chosen direction
by discovery...

a search outside
often finds darkness
in our other..
we hope for
penetrating warmth
our furnished light..
We ask
how our light
renews its flame..
enter Escher with
his tiled lizards..
we see the fitting
without any gaps
scaled symmetry
and no overlaps..
this oneness display
feeds inner light..
our new inside
and out...

Our life story
darkness and joy
is our parable
our truest name..
each day
a conversation
this dialogue with
our evolving name..
our parable then
if live and well
daily transforms..
and on occasion
noses ahead
urging our follow
invites our listen..
together we are
co-creators
mostly in tune...

Trying to en-vision
a group's Self..
A profound necessity:
preserve at once
Each and All..
locating similarity
sensing the group's
one Name..
yet relish each
difference surprise..
two dimensions
each member
in Awareness
should own..

Still insufficient
the mapping above..
departure is next..
find our location
this morning
or at nightfall
this very moment..
A new venture
just Now begins..
paths in Ocean's
oneness..
on each path
Awareness remains...

her warning unheeded
he strayed and departed..
she built a life
cycles with helmet
opening to strangers
love and light..
her daughters' paths
one home attached
the other on border..
union with splits
this prodigal fractal
creation's repeatings...

one pine tree
resplendent in symmetry
another year at home
on her snowbound *****..
apparently not destined
not this year
for light display
with sacrificial death..
roots still grounded
and a treetop pointing
to bright starlight above..
through a sturdy trunk
rooted sparks do flow
upward..rejoining
the glow..

cold and snow
without..
fireplace flickers
within..
hot coals stimulate
rising flames with
tips we notice
do not locate...

so below..
this recipe
seems as for
all of life..
Pausing
to recognize
above and below
both belong to
this moment's
Self identity..
regrets of past
worries of future
these Surprise
ingredients in
our best
Recipe...

he writes from
unhidden despair..
his words find
distress in some
those wishing
a caring shelter
or raining joy..
is it possible
standing his place
finding within the
evening each owns..
a garden there
dark earthy soil..
no other place
restores morning
rays..
Timothy's Gift...

when connected
a story forms..
in the connecting
a certain glimpse
a spark divine..
illusive it is and
without notice the
dots grow dark
becoming shells..
we are wrapped
once more..
we hunger then
for new connecting
another glimpse..
with discoveries of
new dots and stories
hopefully we know
the life of a dot
is sweet and short..
but the connecting
is always sweet...

at last
an arrival in
yesterday's nightfall
this fullness of light..
our preparation completed
by growing slices each night..
partials direct remembering
to light lost and then found
full dark and full light..
let's imagine the dark
naming now
a friend's painful rant
his questions are struggle
enclosing reason and doubt..
might his rant find itself
in lunar transformation
a new grasp of the whole..?
ranting and stimulating
as electrical pole..
return and flow
reaching and receiving
Full Light...?

cycles of life
vibrations in flow..
eating with vigor
ego's voracious growth..
the environment's gift
our nurturing home..
skins are shed
in healthy growth
new skins spread to
catch new light..
internal transformations
fearsome and ugly
but we must restrain
a caterpillar demise..
those processes within
plant beauty outside..
blood to our wings
then we fly
cosmos and each
and all...

horrendous
though embedded
through immemorial life..
unexpected
this singular testimony..
one's discovery
of essential being
there in plummeting depths
of darkest time..

the discovery
not confided..
of terrible truth
in secrecy guarded
with rarity spoken..
but when
always with tears..

the discovery
a flame within
a newfound dimension
found with horror..
then awe overshelming
joined with surprise
of inexpressible joy..
this more real
than earlier notions
of what's out there
and in here..

the discovery
a radiant thread
the connector
of life with death..
inestimable worth
transformed awareness
new birth
still..too frightening
too wondrous
to mention..
gifts of war...

(this is for my
dear friend, Paul,
and his gift work
to elevate the
consciousness
of us all...)

those daily excursions
travels so necessary
point A to point B
are there grooves
long before emplaced..?
then finding ourselves
in pleasant surprise
driver as passenger
awaking in dream..
finding new vision
this more en-lightened
Transport...

Out there and away
expansion is accelerating
so we speculate
when does expansion
accelerate to light..?
Light which can now
be understood as
both far out and in close
with vibrating variations
seeming as
entering and exiting
heavy blackness..
And new realizing:
It's all right
It's all light..!

For our children..
our creations
need an empty space
that they alone might grow..
our light then
must be withdrawn
Yet also remain..
this paradox of light
and of Life...

canals and containers
vital constrictions to flow
these common constraints
we find widespread..
at start of each day
a humble cup we see
holding our morning tea..

those outward vessels
mirror many inside..
these carry surprise
in acquaintance..
not knowing 'til just now
their containment of
everflowing light..

our task..
with urgency now..
to focus awareness
on those vessels which
are ours alone..
we need a simple
introduction to those
avoided constrictions
each of us owns..
often painfully seated
in solitary places..

a dear friend's illness
with diagnosis fleeting..
in desperation at last
filtering years of
bedridden strife..
new awareness uncovered
a new container for her
illumined voice..
with gifts for many
journeys unfolding..

my own discoveries
from life's late
diggings
found vessels quietly
buried and residing in
military formations of
gold and gray and black..
these are holders now
of lights of new
scope and scale..

the vessels we own
are lined and defined
awaiting discovery
sooner or late..
illumined..
with healing in-sight
and we are enriched
in knowing
our vessels..our lights
are one...

a foreboding
photograph
startles to memory
our war's beginning..
this named entanglement
darkened and dampened
the frivolity
the expected brevity
of our war with ourselves..
a blood soaked becoming
of machinery and death..

the foreground a
cannon on wheels
replicated in the distance
and we assume
again and again..
these engines of conflict
dominate a distant
'tho insistent background..
the sun's
fiery reflection on
an expectant treeline..
coupled with sky
turbulent and echoing
the cannon's
forthright entrance
with purpose unmasked..

this our battle of
separation for reunion
a Manassas pattern
oft repeated through
all of these
our rebirthing years..
flanking and horses
surprise encircling
a wall of stone..
agony and sorrow
the fever of war..
all to reframe
then to restate
our collective.. sacred
I Am...