Pull the weeds, plant the seeds
this is what the garden said

choose what stays
choose what goes

be mindful when you do

the silver oaks darken the sun in the mind
trim the trunks, so light may you find

the bindweed traps the heart
clip the vine, free the art

the poison oak stings your delicate hand
let the goats eat these weeds right off the land

the pompous grass clouds the soul in your eyes
pluck these weeds before they set and rise

the deadweed piles darken your spirit
compost the weeds, lighten your merit

plant the seeds of love, hope and color
water with nourishment, fertilize with wonder
and you will warm the heart of another

and then,

begin again,

pull the weeds
plant the seeds

Hungry.

In the silence,
of this afternoon,
they arrive, ready
to feed children who wait
in nest high above.
Their high whistle dancing,
pierces the soundscape
These mejiros--yellow with sharp white eyes,
Comb through hibiscus bush
Finding a meal
Hidden within
Like  parrotfish
Munching through coral reef,

I sit under tree listening,

Abruptly
The seashells to my mind
Fill with shrill sounds
Of mothers scolding monsters,
A quickening--
Their white eyes dart like fearful
squid flying through
brushy undercurrents.
Underneath,
The small lion cat
Stalks the
Hungry sounds
In the bush

the Hungry looking for Hungry

I met Mother Taro once,

        She is an angel you know

I saw her in the greenery of
John Pia's Taro Patch.

She dawned the past, the present
and the future
More plant than woman,
and yet more root than angel wing--
Though her heart shaped wings
Repelled water as well
as any albatross or nene.
A rare bird in spirit.

She shared her plight to me
Of this modern time,
Watching the changes
In the faces of human kind

She remembers being a Goddess
And providing for all the people
In a time where she
traveled with the people
Over waters near and far
In double hulled canoe
To share her spirit
With new families.

And now, she feels like a myth
Told and retold by the elders
Alive more in the memories
And less on the land.

As she spoke, the message
Became more and more clear.
When might and power and greed and money
Seem of more value than
Root, wing, earth and pluck
We must take the time,

take the time

To tend each keiki and tend with care
So they may multiply
In healthy soil, water and air

So We the Living
Can live into eternity
For the winds of time
Will spite the might,
She said.
Seize this time
Seize this  day,
Seize this moment
to tend
We the Living.

At first we flew with timeless wings
Into the dreams and beyond.  
And when the truths came
and monstered us all,
we had to cope or fall

I WAS walking on eggshells,                  
Walking on the razor's edge,
         I fell  into life
onto the ground of truth
                                           He IS walking on eggshells
                                           He IS walking on the razor's edge
                                           Life on one side, Death on the other

We are not Born in the air with timeless wings,
           Gravity grants space and time
                       And yet still
            What is up must come down
  
May the landing  be gentle,
like a lion's roar when it
comes to the mountain peak to
announce itself,
May it be wakening,
like the first summer sunrise burning into the day,
May it be embracing
like the entwining vines
racing upwards towards the sun
to gather all the light

Some strong sensations on my ankle
Unravel me
Dissolve me

Remind me
When pain and suffering
Led the path

I thought it was real,
Was the only,
Was the only way--

And now I wake up to ten thousand
Hairs on the soles of my feet
Tugging me
Into the day
From starlight
And ancestors
Going my way

Remember, remember
I walk on these feet
With curiosity, flexibility,
Wonder and love

Grandmother Earth
Is right down below-- So
Today I can step on
The ground with pure joy,
Embracing this place by
Loving breath from my soles

Gentle silence unfolds into chaotic cacophany
My eyes once dry
open wide to watering
the rain outside
the tears inside
washing away debris
from the forest
of confusion
watering my seeds
of awakening
to this truth
now

.                                                 sea and sand,                                          .
                ­                          salt and surf, foam and
                                       froth, greet and gather, tumble
                                    and turn, rock and roll, spray and
                                 spin, cross and current,                roar        
                               and rise, crash and curdle,                mix
                            and mash, blend and bash, drip
                         and drop, pour and plunder, leap and
                     layer, mound and mist, shine and sheen, scoop
                  and scale, spread and span, fall and falter, leap and
               layer, splash and spire, bubble and brine, writhe and write
         s             e            a           w           o           r            t           h           y

if i could pay you in poetry
would you prefer
fiery and feisty
loving and longing
crazy and crafty
scentual and sightful
playful and pranking
guru and gonzo
singing and songing
listening and lightness
softing and sensual
tender and tinder
laughter and limitless
insight and winsight

tell me,
what poetry would you
put in your bank?

"What's your birthstone?  
I don't know, Oh, I know--it's rock."

Black rocks baking in the sun
dot this beach
Like chocolate chips in the dough
They call to us
Come climb,
Come hop on us
Find treasures hidden behind and between
All our dark shadows,

Lying as still as stone
A large rock shape,
Oh, it's grayer
and duller,
and there's sand sprinkled on it,
And it's moving!
It's Living Rock,
The monk seal napping
from its morning meal.

Yes- we watch others walk right by him
caught in their words,
Unaware of the living amongst the rocks,
Living Rock doesn't care
His belly is full

Gray sleek shape
massaged by the wind
with feast in your belly,
So mighty tired!
You taste your sleep for days,
Clouds cover the day's starlight you seek,
Your body begs for light, and yet
Nobody can wake you from your slumber
Not even the high pitched voices
of children playing
nor the fishing lines in and out of the tide

What of your dreams
Oh Large Gray Rock
Do you dream of the ocean tossing
Fish  into your mouth?
Or of the warm sun coming
to bake your skin?

The salt water dances up your nostrils,
You lift your head in mild protest
Then let it rest on your
Ancient bed of coral and shell bones
My feet love to dig into your bed

No insomnia for you sea creatures,
Maybe I should count monk seals
Instead of sheep when I want to sleep,
Your body clock measures time
Not in days or hours
But in meals, in hunts
In fullness, in emptiness
Your sleep is well earned
My friend

We can learn from you.
You bask, dream,
Then awaken renewed
To taste your ocean again,

Melody
Lifting the veil
From dream world,
Remembering me
Into this body
Song bird
Gently strumming
My soul
Waking me
Into this day

I know you can hear me
I saw you in my dreams...
When you lived on the terrestrial plane
I think we both spoke different languages.
Both about love,
Just about different ways of loving...
................Just so you know..............
I love you so......
Even if before you turned to fine dust
You never really
Got to see and feel
The depth of my

          I      

    l  o  v  e    

  y      o      u     

Written
In the language you spoke.

Innocence saw the truth
The mind filtered it, and
Misery spoke it (to him)
He heard it
And sharp anger impaled it
Revealing the remaining
Fragments of Adulterated
Distorted Truth

We weigh the ways of the woes

We woo the ways of the whys

We woo the wise with their ways

Why wait?

How long did I believe
The sunrise is forever
He told me
And I saw the golden hues of hope
Sculpted into forever
And a day--
Until one day what was inbetween
All the sunrises emerged
And I tasted the bitter,
the butter, the batter of all the other.

She painted peace over the wounded mouths twisted with lies, truths unspoken, love never claimed,
She brushed them with the pink of a newborn baby's lips

She painted peace over the hands that held weapons, fingers that had pulled triggers to **** or maul,
She scraped them green as the new shoots from blades of grass reborn in the Spring

She painted peace in the hearts of those women and men who held broken pieces filled with sadness, scarred with inner rage
She colored them red of the rose in full scent and full bloom

She painted peace on the eyes and bodies of children stripped away from their life force, their source of mother
She traced them the purest blue found in the color of water at dawn's first light

She painted peace in families torn and broken
She swept them with all the colors of the rainbow appearing just after the rain, when the light shines through with hope

She painted peace in the indigenous souls torn from their culture and land
She circled them the color of the green flash-
the flicker of pure green born after the sunsets, existing only for a second

She painted peace in the unborn and the born whose differences bring challenges to them and their families
She skimmed them with lavender fields blooming in the swirling winds, with the sounds of the bees buzzing in joy and abundance

She painted peace over the wounds, the carcasses of animals fallen in a frenzy of human greed and misunderstanding
She whisked them golden as the sun rising in its glory to begin a new day

She painted peace over the ghosts of the forests and their inhabitants
She rolled them the brightest yellow of the night sky--the first star rising-guiding us though the whispers of time steering us in the darkness

She painted peace in the waters, the rivers and oceans who were littered with the makings of man 
She glided them silver to reflect the light that is always around

She painted peace on the earth and women--places torn open and stripped, laying barren, vulnerable.  
She covered them the rich colors of terra cotta- freshly made pottery from hands who love creation

She painted the air, the unfiltered air, clogged, imbalanced
She flowed it clear, the color of innocence - when we look into the eyes of the newborn, and those just about to pass.

She painted it all,

And when the summer sun melted the colors and subjects, she molded the forms, colors, scent, textures and sounds into the shape of love as eternity.
She sang the sweetest birdsongs into the new day bringing in renewal  

She painted peace into all of life.

After the birth,
this blue I feel,
I wear it like a robe
tied around me.
its edges hang beyond
floor length
Trailing behind and around me,
Laid out for your posterity.
I touch the still moist umbilical cord
spiral it,
leave it to dry.
I want to cry when I touch it
I am becoming me again, just me.
Now there is a you and a me
I look at you little one
your perfection
Delicate fingers and toes
Pink complexion, gentle hair
I know you are a miracle,
and I cry.
Your umbilicus fell off today.
Your belly button is your own now.
I witness you unfolding into this time,
limbs filling out into every new now,
My ****** expanded for you
And now it shrinks down everyday.
My *******, a river of milk flowing
To meet your hunger,
I hold you to my heart
And I love you,
Every breath,
Every finger,
Every toe
Every look and sound you make,
Every second-- I pour forth with love for you
How will our time
Be together
Will I listen well,
Will you show me well?--
You still see
the invisible umbilicuses
tracing back through every birth to
the original Mother
To the Great Oneness
Every you, and every me
Connected to the Source
To the Breath of Life
Now---- I can see this blue I wear
As the ocean around me
And I can feel the waves
washing me, washing me, washing me.

......Finding the words
                            to describe the feelings.....

                        Just by moving through the ocean

Inside, I am swimming,
swimming to get away,
swimming to come home
to what I knew.
I know I can never be the same again
Knowing  what I know now.

I feel the hollow dust of
of confusion
swirling inside me
I feel my impossibility---

like I am trying

to catch

each dust particle:

every old idea I have ever had,

before it lands and

makes me sneeze --only to blow

all the dust particles back into chaos,

so I hold my breath....



.....pause....

....breathe in.....

...exhale ....s  l  o  w   l  y .......

.....embody this moment....

and become, one who CAN.

...leave this terrestrial moment....

...and go into the water....


And when I imagine
I am the whale,
I am the vastness within and around
I can just breathe and swim

I catch
all the plankton spinning in chaos
after they have been
cast into the ocean currents
and the plankton come to me,
the plankton feed me
one by one--
I can fill my belly
with all these
            d o t s              o   f
                    f     o     o      d
Gathering, harvesting,
plankton combing through my baleen,
I am fed, I am nourished,
just by moving through the ocean.
I am free.

feeling the current
tugging at my sleeves
rocking me from my stasis
turning me into liquid
when i thought
the ground was firm beneath me,
heels feel the crumbling
quaking beneath,
just letting the flow
breathe me into
this next song,
new key,
new rhythm,
new tones,
timber through me

-----------I weave my grand                     mother's spirit to life--------
             when I paint with my             words what she dreamed
             in her life.  My grandmother's kimono sat in the dark never
            worn; so needs a     dusting--I lift it up      into this light to be
           seen, to be heard,      to be felt, fabric of          loving  heart
          dreams to be.  It's     not perfectly shaped   or tattered or torn,
         rather fermented       beyond her time  to      take form.  My
       Grandma loved  to        eat her white rice          she ate thirty
      seven million grains      of rice by the time         she reached her
      104-- Born on a             sugarcane plant'tion         on the coast of
     Oahu, a child in               the tropics then a       teen in Japan. Her
    family returned to          their roots to learn,    & grow, reenter the
   cultural force. She                discovered her              new talent as
                                            ------------------------------
                                  ­              K  I   M   O  N  O          
                                               ­     A R T I S T
                                            --------------------­----------
                                       Kikuyo  Yamamoto became
                                     liberated as an artist and then
                                     her life changed as her family
                                    demanded she leave her position
                                   and marry away to a Japanese man
                                    who lives in California (my Grand
                                    father).  The matchmaker said it
                                     would work really well....She
                                   endured life as an American farm
                                     wife, then life in Japanese intern-
                                    ment camps. Five  children, nine
                                    grandchildren...Dear Grandmother
                                     I know you had lots to surrender-
                                           I honor your life as mother,
                                           grandmother, and artist --I
                                          wove this poem in the form
                                       of  a kimono for you  May your
                                         spirit rest in peace. I love you.

You smile-
With new spaces between your teeth,
Newly lost teeth
Cast off to the tooth fairy,
You trade in
to get your new teeth
I hear your laugh,
You flash your toothless smile
I smile back,
The twinkle in your eye tells me
of the wisdom born in you,
The landscape inside your mouth
growing upwards
Like mountains in your being,
Your innocence  birthing into new life experiences
shaping who you are,
Your new toothless smile tells me
of your growing confidence,
You pat me on the back
"It's OK mom, I know who the tooth fairy is,
You don't have to explain."
Your eyes sparkle with magic,
You tell me who the fairy
Really is.

sublime
luminous
strum
showering
poppies and poodles
puppies and puddles
seeping
surreptiously,
stepping
starlight
into my soul

ludicrous without the laughter
this
Absurdity

sun baking villages of wild flowers for dead bees
bare earth torn to discover luminous oil
what are we doing?
why are we here?

why are the floods pouring from the sky?
Extraordinary tears
from lives spent
no more
to be seen again?

summer mountains
getting covered with winter snow
why are the polar bears
floating on glacial ice away from their livelihood
Why are the seasons changing,
from spring into winter
and from summer into the unknown
why are the whales swimming
to the shore?

Did we rewrite the wheel of time?
did we change the drumming of the drummer
without asking why?

The cotton clouds above me
silently scream as they stream
into the empty sunset
in the darkness of my mind

I have heard to act like we are
walking on our grandmother's face
when we take a walk on our earth,
What would grandmother say
if she were here today?

Stop!  See
the basil buzzing with a bee
Listen,
let your eyes
fill with the light of hope,
feel it,
and
let
this
gold
ray
touch
the
sun
in
your
mind
to
illuminate your landscape....

...I remember,
I remember why we are here
and what we are doing

don't let
someone else's
thoughts and actions
tear your earth apart

let the earth sneeze
let the bees breeze
let the sunshine awaken
let the dry rocks get covered with river clouds
let the tears fall,
touch and listen to grandmother

if the old footprints on her face
do not say I love you,
how can this next step say
I love you?

everyday?
really!  Yes.  
choiceless.
I'm tired.
I'm sore.  
I don't want to.
Show up.
Be present,
do your best,
breathe,
wake up,
practice
and
life moves
through you
in the most
extraordinary
ways

how to make ghee
how to to clarify,
place the salt free butter in pan
turn the heat on very low,
then just listen............
first,
silence--
then sounds of drizzling rain for a while grow
to a creek starting to flow
then hear the steady rain pelting on leaves
(if it starts to sound like popcorn,
maybe turn the heat down),
then let the rain keep
trodding, until
it gets quieter
and quieter
and quiet
then
turn
off
flame,
the
ghee
is
ready
strain,
and
bottle

Resting in the loving arms of the divine mother

I breathe and flow in my river of life

the pearls of love in my emotional field
touch my heart and soul and nourish my spirit

I am love

Swami says
There is no escape
To be who you are.

Yes that's right
You can run and hide
Strategize or divide
But there's no escaping
Who you are my friend,
Yes there's no escaping who you are.

When temper
flares high
sending anger darts awry,
Go to the ocean
and cool off
my friend,
Let the waves ripple over you
And let this layer
wash off in the sea

When the blues are blue--
The tears flow
From your depths of your soul--
Release this ocean of feeling,
Let the sounds of those tears
Ring to the ground

When joy bubbles into your heart,
Weaves a smile on your face,
laughs you, tickles you
Share this my friend
Let it touch another
Weave this joy into the
Fabric of all life

In this moment
Be present to who you are
You are the one you've
Been waiting for,
You are the one you've been
Wanting to know,
No need to run
Circle on back to yourself,

Swami says there is no escape
To be who you are.

Be the one.