loneliness: in my dreams
we go on adventures
you, without a face or a name
travel with me as we raid corporate
offices and write children’s books
and turn tables searching for truth
and liberation
you strike deep roots, deeper roots than I could
ever fathom

sometimes I try to deny you the earth’s blessings
sometimes, loneliness, I try to pull you out from the soil
but I can only claw so deep into the earth before I am tired
sweaty, in the hot sun, the sandy soil sliding back down around
your rootspace

loneliness, you are not the same as despair
loneliness, you are not a perennial
I should let you grow deep and wide, I should let you
take over the entire garden
Do I even have the heart or soul left to grow anything
else this year?

One of these days I might regret stymieing your growth
I would wonder what your blossoms would look and smell like
What your fruit would taste like if I gave
you time to bear it
What nutrients you might leave to nourish a rootspace in my soul
That could be filled with love, laughter and
a future so distant and so near I could know not its name

loneliness: let’s be friends
I’ll leave fear and longing behind and we can bear on
together,
Our cups overfull, our hands acheing with energy
The sand, the soil, into the forest together
We discover a world I would have never known without you
And I will learn to carry you not as a burden but
as a blessing
Since it’s been so long since I’ve known your name
Why would I deny the opportunity
To savor your bittersweet flesh in a hot afternoon?
It will take time,
But I have all the patience in the world

beneath
a very opinionated
garden of
brilliant
igneous rocks

devouring the shattered
seashells
of an all but forgotten past

each moment the soils are renewed
exuberant with light

it would seem
this boat we are in
took on some water

were our hearts too full?
too heavy to bring about
the bouyancy that
drifting at sea requires?

were we paddling with impatience?
that song we sang it had
a cadence that left
little time for reflection
no time to notice
the water lapping and rising at
our own feet

despite what we've been told
rarely is one prepared
for such a trip

after all
who could anticipate
the severe solitude
one discovers
adrift at sea,
hearts unmoored,
souls all afire
all aflutter
sails stormily snapping
and lapping up the
tempestuous wind

where we live
in our temples
we light lanterns

so many plants,
gathered and dried
placed carefully
smoldering

the rising smoke
allows us to see the low
trembling

more pervasive than a wind
a bounty of your spirit
enlivening, riotous,
and your own universe
of kindness

we can never know what to expect
but we like what we are hearing

do you know island, that you
are and have always been thriving
on the life that you give yourself?

unmoored you are not.

you are about as adrift
as the coral reefs
that ring your most sun drenched
shorelines

your history
shouldered with love -

you are rife with a certain heaviness
that weighs in a fastening
balance, a brilliant strategy
in cahoots with
all the others

it is true, of course
that we commune with the same sun
the waters drift between us and our neighbors
many of the same clouds are found
sauntering amongst our respective mountains

but you - you are filled with your own stories
they are still echoing,
incantations deeply canonized
from within those temples you call
forests
your very own cosmology that
you yourself
are only beginning to discover

Some people spend their whole lives
drawing all the lines between
the starry heavens
transcribing their ethereal tones
learning to sleep and dream
along to the stellar cadence
that you can hear
resonating in all things

If you aren't careful you'll find
you might miss a beat,
lose count
or cross lines until the map your making
is irrecognizable

It takes a certain delicacy
and a lot of dedication
to hold true to that
low hum of the heavens

Peering out across the milky sky
waiting patiently to watch the stars
slowly slide back to their homes amongst the tired mountains
improbable galaxies whirling about,
an ocean infinitely illuminated with a
mesmerizing brilliance
a sea of wonderment

And what a journey
to walk that heavenly wilderness
maybe there you'll discover
how we all feast upon the sweet fruit of the universe
unknowingly, every day that the sun decides to rise

i'm sure by now
you feel it in your bones
with every draw of ocean breath
with every bit of blood that courses through you
as you return to earth
with those heavenly reverberations
the songs we sing for generations

some of us are fortunate -
our shores are sandy beaches
occasionally blowing over
with an aching dust-
often meaningless, yet
bearable

clouds drift languidly
over them
as if they were a break from
the balmy days of
self reflection

but most of us
our shores are scattered with rocks,
scree and boulders
worn down by
the relentless whims of ocean borne
storms
hurricanes that feel entitled to destroy
everything that piques thier fancy

avalanches of ignorance
come tumbling
off the great, hulking,
blind land masses

these hulking shadows, these blunt winds
they are
so pervasive

very nearly
inescapable

from our shores
we stake out our boundaries
at various distances for safety

outside of them
we are entrusted to traverse
quietly
with humility
with delicacy

because,
when we are lovingly let
to draw nearer -

we are allowed to discover
the light and life that many of us must leave
buried
amongst brush and boulders or
beneath the sand

quietly hidden from
the ravenous wandering souls
staring on
tempestuous howling storms
unconsciously devouring
what we haven't tucked away for safe keeping

& with such great gratitude
to have that arterial vein
willingly
with trust
opened for you to climb in
so you can be let to listen
to hear
to see
  to know
the most earnest vibrations
intricate intimacies
  the warm heaving and sighing
the most sacred temple
   the most venerable *****
   a ventricular vestibule
   intimating the harshest subtleties
& the most visceral visions

sometimes i wake in fear
to the sound of anguished cries
to the bleating of war drums and the
rumble and thud of bombs

i awake already sobbing
our tears, all running together,
tiny rivulets in the mud until they reach
that place where fires,
debris and strongly held opinions
stand stoically like the hoover dam
a counter-insurgency against
the natural course of our suffering

the resounding roar of empire
mangy hawks across the way shrieking where
a brittle statue of a dull and angry man
rears it's ugly head each morning

sometimes i wake to this abhorrent cacaphony
and then i feel powerless

everyone is saying that they are waging these wars
for freedom
while all our lives and dreams are crushed every moment

will someone ask that man
on the tv with strong opinions and facts
about people he's never met
if he, in his infinite wisdom, knows
how many more bombs it will take until
the seething violence of humanity
cracks open the
forlorn and solemn soul of the earth?

sometimes

you call upon me
to visit my island

and usually
i'm not even
in a place to answer

maybe i’m
too disoriented by these
careless,
     prevailing winds

or possibly
a bit too forlorn

just not fit for
taking on
such marvelous company

upon your ship
the lantern shines
with a certain brilliance i've
never witnessed before

the beds here are
uncomfortably moist with tears
so i've
abandoned them
for the floor

my fellow islands:
i've learned
& am learning that
each of us, we are
a many voiced but endless song of
existence
menageries of life

each and every one of our trees
their very leaves,
  heavy with rain
pointing
toward the ground

each of them can tell
more stories than
there are stars in the sky

each of us we are running over -
boundless narratives heaving from every
spring
from under every rock