Silence listens to the voices of the people
while on earth, a wisp of wind digresses  
In heaven God listens to each silent call  
at the footfalls of Silence...

Silence breathes quietly at the crack of dawn  
respiring softly at the ledge of twilight sunset  
Silence sits at the nucleus of our souls and lies
at the footfalls of Silence...

Silence is at the ear of the heart it does not speak
gently it leads us with a cupped hand to peace
It knows how to collect waterfalls and breezes
at the footfalls of Silence...

Silence is my linguistic heaven, my favorite speech
it is my mantra, my Yoga Master, my go to place
When things overwhelm I go to Silence and live,      
at the footfalls of Silence....

Let me wander, let me be,
Somewhere between the past and the dreams.
Have I truly been here before? Let me think.
I don't know.
But it echoes.
The words and melody against my soul.
Are you from lifetimes ago,
Or just memories fallen into the furrows,
Finally grown.
I see them clear as a dream.
I feel them clear as a dream.
The warm and the cold.
The familiar and unknown.
The childhood shadows I've rushed past long ago,
Wavering in the same glow.
Why did you stay? Will you never let go.
Will you stay with me in time,
Until eternity takes hold?

i am sitting on the platform
looking at the train

i am sitting in the train
looking at the platform

life is a pinhole camera
i blink and i look
and everything inverts

the son becomes the father
the home becomes the destination
the love becomes the longing

This month I call you Saviour.

Mostly, instinctively
I call to you as Lord-God and Father.
Typically these are the names
I call to mind at early dawn.

But this month you are Saviour
as I become more acutely drawn
to my need to call on your saving grace
to draw on your sacrificial willingness
to cast off the trappings
wrapped up with heavenly glory
to embrace the blood and the mess
that comes with small town nativity
and ultimate betrayal in the big city.

This month I address my Hosannas
to you, my loving, risen Saviour.

One step up
Reach to the left
One hand after the other
Grip. Slip. Crunch.
On the ground,

Stretch and pull
Out of a right angle
Heat and ice
Hang in distortion
Pressing into a straight line

Bones rearranged
Cracked and torn
Bent out of form
Numbing pain zings
Restriction in movement

Melt into blank stares
Therapy, therapy, repeat!
Doctor calls and late-night sprawls
Shape a new reality.
Bending into strength