I’ve become the monkey

im carrying on,
entirely unable
to speak

just quietness
and questions

like,

come
, won't you?

it's a nightly presence,
nightly presents

divinely surrendered
magically tendered
finances tenured,

in the wake of your heart,
lord,
I'm rendered

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

I don't know where you're headed
or if what you are is what
you think you are

        It's true enough, here
        where we live,
        on the borderline
        
        What really matters
        is how well you walk
        through the fire

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

mugwort mama
mama momma
come home
come home mama

sing mama
mama sing
mugwort mama
mugwort sings

oh mugwort dancing
she  dances darling
oh dance, dance,
dance us home

laughing papa, papa laughing
oh papa, papa
papa
is laughing us home

loving love
mama loving
mugwort mama
mugwort is loving us home


<3

The fire
sets wood aside
saving up for another day

While the flame
grows smaller
until only ash remains

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.

Talking to tomatoes might just teach you
      not to try too hard

As for those who eat them plain and raw
     a more unsure sight i never did saw

Loons live in a city
     and bugs sometimes crawl

Now go ahead and tell me
     have we seen up over the wall?

Tomato tomato
     and potato potato

It's a funny old world
     like a big ball of playdough

I befriend “the devil”

and in so doing

befriend

"the self"

"loneliness"







is okay







i loved her then







and i love her now





put milk in the fridge






and give love to a cow






dream all the dreams






and when you wake






say "wow"

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

A gray day colored green
      beneath a chilly winter sky

I think I oughtta write a poem today

But something tells me to be quiet

So, I’m left with this

        


            Are you listening?

I’ve watched the flames flicker

for a winter now

The ash bucket is full

healing happens --
     birch bolettes
     and beeches

songs of "the dead"
as beauty
     forever reaches

few words  
  
     are always true

       like     “light”

       and     “dark”

       like      “god”

       and

“I love you”

For whom there is nothing
          darkness falls
and a hand (or a voice?)
         from somewhere calls

is a breakfast food

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

Go ahead

and be radical

Love this world

exactly as it is

unbound darkness
through which
a seed is sewn

grief is ecstatic
grief is glorified
grief is full of wonder
seen mostly from the other side
grief is the page left blank
grief is the unbound darkness
in which every seed is sewn

i am a songbird,

something like the croak of a raven

and when drifting into dark depths

unbroken, this love is a haven

when traveled too far,

still you are near

and when all sight is lost,

through the heart

we are taught how to hear

i dreamt strong

about the beauty

which together we’d make

and held on long

until through pain i learned

you are not mine to take

and just like that

it’s gone

the heart does sometimes ache

now we have a song

and with tremors of love

earth eternal does quake

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?

i do not know what makes a heart whole

from what I can tell,

there is an ocean

and an ocean, seven times over

there are green leaves which spring up

out of earth

in the shape

of what you might call "hearts"

I taste them

and everytime, something in me

dances

What,

I wonder,

might this wacky

and wonderful

world

be saying now

I have tasted the depths of nothingness
Like some black bark
From a tree
which does not exist

Where there are no trees

I shook my body
Day after day after day
A little something
to navigate the gray


And still

I am hesitant to rise again
As the remembrance
Of winters remain

For once in my life

I am my own man
Powerful
Naked and afraid

Just like the old men whose hands I hold

And still

I wrap my ***** as if
It is all I have ever known
And I walk

To the pond and sing

For this love
Knows nothing
Quite so true
As your arms

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

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

it is the flavor of this world
which carries me through

it is the strangeness that i love,
curiosity,
and nothing left to do

musk
fox
and funk

spice
posh
and skunk

will she love me?
perhaps
she already does

the weather
that is this world -- everything
is, will be

and was

It is time
for hands to gather themselves
together. To lift up
and lighten the load.  Birds
make it look so easy

There is a stillness to it all.
Hurricanes and their eyes,
lakes and their surfaces
and how the ocean catches a little rest
between tides

It is time
It is time for the earth
to breathe a little easier,
lighter, looser. Gently,
brush the body beside you

It is breathing, no?
How many moons have come and gone
without your notice?
Between cracks
flowers grow, not worrying

whether they are seen
or not
They are here for the light.
They live for the light.
It is time.

It is time
Lift up
and touch
the body of heaven -
in this life,  in this world, on this earth

And settle.
there is a stillness to it all.
Born out of the dark,
we are here for the light. See?
Flowers make it look so easy

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

It’s all a dream
Heartache and everything
Still I sing

every day is election day...






don’t ya say?

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.

Why let these rules
     run our lives

Shackles and chains
     shouts and cries

Free from the fear
      unbound and unbind

Let the body move
      and may the worry unwind

Love the free woman
      and all of mankind

maybe 'it'
is just one more
far away place
maybe the gift
is this breath -- oh
sweet smiles on each
and every face

maybe I’ve been humbled

yet again
maybe “maybe” is all there ever is
maybe “God”
maybe loss
maybe I’m afraid to hurt
to be hurt
to accept

maybe I like the chase
maybe I want that old love once more
maybe I’m better off without it
maybe I can love her just like this
(and maybe that’s enough)

maybe I reach too high
maybe I’m looking too low
maybe I am human
maybe I have trouble with acceptance
maybe all this isn’t quite so bad
maybe there’s an awful lot of love in this world
maybe the cold can be fine too

maybe Crows are King
maybe Christ
is the breath of all beings
maybe Life
is what happens
when we sing

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

the birds are singing again
as wind touches the face of my friend
and raindrops fall

I go down to the river
To see what’s for sale

And I come back a giver
— Fat like a whale

i dont know much
about the end
or how or where or why

and now
it is a cold
and windy night

will you let it be
as it wants to be
you can make a home for it,
you know

and i wonder
if perhaps
"the end" we sometimes speak of
is merely
a grandest of openings

and miracles light the path
like sights and tastes and smells
and memories,
though bittersweet,
they sometimes are

for that is what i am
and i choose
to love myself for it

and now
it is a cold
and windy night

as magical and strange
and altogether unavoidable
as you are

and this,
well this,
is certainly
not
the end

See Sun rise

as Crow flies

Cardinal sings

and Spring arrives

Down beside the river

a snowdrop petal lies

she arrived in the night
like any other beautiful thing I've ever
    come to know
born of a dream
     a tongue healing an old scar
for how long
      had we drifted apart?
and how close to death
      were we?
how many times can a soul be reborn?
      this
is where we belong
      this
is all i've ever wanted

perhaps,

      you are already aware
      of the undying
      nature
      of life
      --

if not,

       may i direct some attention
       toward angry chopping blade
       of  mower -- symbol
       of "death"
       if there ever was one

and flowers

       which bloom
       lower
       and lower
       beneath reach of blade
       of that funny old mower

so i sing with you now

      oh dandelion and chicory,
       sorrel and clover --
      how love carries through
       over and over