like flowers

like a candle

like children singing a song

like you and I singing a song

about flowers

beside a candle

new life

growing roots

Blossoms

And the sweetness of our fruit

To have done nothing



 and



in so doing




                                               something

The red-bellied woodpecker and I
are one. It has always been
that way. See the blue sky?

And do you see all the ways
a cloudy world wishes to have
its say? Twisting and pulling.

Twisting and pulling. Twisting
and pulling. Yet, the red-bellied woodpecker
and I are one. It just is.

And you and I are one. Calling
out is the sky. The sun begs
the questions to be done. A ball of

Fire. And all this twisting
and pulling. Twisting and pulling.
Strung out and wrung out --

And a woodpecker. Red-bellied.
         In the sun. In the sky.
                And you

And I

Day comes on fast
so i bury my head in the leaves
I put black paint on the railing
cuz it looks good
and they’re gonna pay me
A morning of love
whatever that may mean to you
will keep you full
as the world stretches you thin
They’re gonna have to stop me themselves
I’m done
stopping myself
Give me the whole **** mountain
and wrap me in the great blanket of stars

This world is mine too, you know

This is a poem for the Blackwater
       of your being
where death lives
       beyond your seeing
and the white swan floats
       above your keeping
This is a poem for the Blackwater
       which keeps you breathing

This I've come to see:
      that it could not be otherwise

A gray day colored green
      beneath a chilly winter sky

Gently,
this
is enough

Twelve vultures
seven black and five turkey
Like honey in hot tea
I’m gone in early morning

In Subotica, it was doves
night and day
from the library, the town park
and above the ice rink
clouds glowing pink

“Let there be birds in the poem”
she says

Let there be humans
too
let there be a body
tucked against
another body
let there be hands
moving slow,
here and there
let there be blood
flowing
freely

listen
a mountain dove
is cooing
in the late Winter sun

Hey Jesus,

     I am wondering:

           Is it time we forget all that "sin" business?

     Let people die as they might die?

            And live,

      As they might live?

           What do you say?

What is a ****, really?
         And which seed, next, shall I sew?

Not just questions of the garden,
         They live everywhere we go.

No answers here to be had
         But by asking we may grow

See the creatures, how they're milling?
         Some for song and some for show

It can all be a little scary
          Left, right, above and below

From the far field
          One truth the body always knows

Live faith and sing a song
          Any which way it goes

Live faith and sing a song
           Any which way it goes

Enough!

       be it already

                                           a word is a word

                                 amidst many words

Watch this:

        Breath in

        Breath out

                                          And just like that

                              the surface world is digested

Do it fully

                                    and for goodness' sake

             Do it wholly

I dream of you
       and that part of me
forever missing
       forever singing

Very little indeed
          Might you ever know
But if you do not plant the seed
           You can be sure it will not grow

If we would do a little less
            we might come to see
the love of this world lives
             in simplicity

Find yourself an imaginary friend
Name him or her "Jasmine" or "Mickey" or "God"
          It's been done before

Where would I be if I didn't land
Once or twice a week upside down
          Neck deep in the sand

Smell the flowers if you can
Pick one or two and carry them home
          Put them in water in a jar

Keep them there
And say "thank you"
           To God or Mickey or Jasmine

To Earth even
Love yourself
           And others too

As best you can
And if or when
           Darkness or despair or doubt

Refuse to leave you alone
Seat yourself
            In the Heart of the Woods

And take rest

See Sun rise

as Crow flies

Cardinal sings

and Spring arrives

Down beside the river

a snowdrop petal lies

A
Yellow flame
flickers
in the thin and
dark hours of morning

       Brave souls
       every one of us

I can’t help but notice
Sunflower’s disregard for words
It is far too busy
becoming

Breakfast for Finch
Beauty for Human
Nectar for Bee

In a jar on the counter
ever so patient
wait next year’s seeds

Early Morning Christmas Tree


I.

on branches, ornaments hang

a bright morning

beside the green tree

presents below

pine needles above

This day has been decorated for us



II.

I wake up all sleepy on

cristmas day and see the green

glittering cristmas tree in the

early risen light present are stacked

under the tree for it is christmas

day

crows chase a red-tail hawk
over snow-laden fields
snot blown clear from my nostril

Mr. Squirrel
And his twitching tail
Upon the gray roof
Set before the cold blue sky

It is best not to fill your own cup

The small poem

of your tired hands
your bent back
your hunched heart
and your silent, lurking seed of longing

Feed me that.

Where did my last avocado go?

******!



Outside,

The year's first snow

Is falling

Exultation
Elation
Rumination
        This bird-less sky
        shall not ruin my mind
Sun on our skin -- we are more
We are more than what you
Might ever see. Blossom.
        Fruit. And Fall.
A gentle rustle in the leaves

Each moment.
Each moment runs rich
like a river after rain --
        murky
        and full of what surrounds it.
        What moves it. What bends,
        twists and turns it so.
        Alive with where it has been,
        and alive with where it will go.

Each moment
runs rich
like a river after rain --
        wet and heavy,
        full of joy,
        and full of pain.

Each moment
runs rich
like a river.

        Be there.

The full moon rises quiet
in the night
behind the cover of clouds. Light
is light is light. Seen,
or not. Where the eyes go,
where the hands move,
where the heart stirs, love
may grow. Time

lives outside the circle. A
statistic small and frail.
The wind is real.
Voices of crickets and katydids.
The hungry web of the spider. Look,

and be found. Be found,
and behold. Behold,
and be held. Be held
by the web. Be held
by the light. Be held
by the moon
rising quiet
in the night.

“inshallah,
inshallah,”
he would say

“inshallah,
inshallah,
I will return home in May”

and “god-willing,
god-willing,” we say
might the almighty soul find a home
and might this
be that day

The fire
sets wood aside
saving up for another day

While the flame
grows smaller
until only ash remains

this moment
is as brief as they say it is -
              light rain falling
              on a still lake

this moment
is as brief as they say it is -
              light rain falling
              inviting this earth and its inhabitants
              to wake

                                 to wake

                                                        to wake

The way outward
is inward
say the Ojibwe
Well it is getting late
and I am feeling as if the world wants answers

A flame burns low
and somewhere in the woods a wild
voice rises
through that of the birds
the river
and the wind

It is full of longing, despair and lust
A sightless woman
sings light into the dark
long after dusk