There is one other thing to know…when you have expressed yourself to the fullest, then and only then will it dawn upon you that everything has already been expressed, not in words alone but in deed, and that all you need really do is say Amen! — Henry Miller
I watched as you swirled through space
a molten fragment of a star
and took your place third from the sun.
While you were still an infant wrapped in the
heat of your own creation,
I bathed in your red hot lava flows
pushed upward from your heart’s core.
Using your clouds of steam for stepping stones,
I climbed into your heavens and placed the stars
into the sky to navigate your journey through existence.
From your boiling seas, I watched you transform
from amoeba to fish and then crawl onto the land.
I forced the wind through your gills
and breathed your first breath into your lungs.
I rode on the backs of mastodons and led them
from the icy grotto of their death.
I watched as a proud mother your first erect steps.
When you stumbled, I gave you courage.
When you fell, I gave you hope.
And when you left this world, I gave you wonder.
I am the air you breathe,
the water you drink,
the vegetation which feeds your body.
I am the voice which speaks to you in whispers
and consoles you in your sleep.
I am the doorkeeper of your dreams
and the guardian of your fears.
I am the blood flowing in your veins
and every thought your mind interprets.
I am the love you feel when you don’t know why.
The tears you shed for both sorrow and joy.
I am life itself, and I am everywhere.
I am here, (mind) I am here, (body) I am here (soul).
If I could master just one art,
it would be the art of letting go:
of people I have known and loved,
of places I’ve traveled to and lived
of sunsets and full moons I’ve witnessed.
I would let go of this moment
as quickly as it appears,
faster if I could.
I would let go of things I wished for and
especially those wishes which came true.
I’d carry nothing from this moment
into the next.
For each moment
would have but one life,
never preceded by a memory
never, ever, followed by a wish.
I have been listening my entire life
First to my mother’s heart beat as
I floated in her mixture of embryonic fluids.
What else was there for me to do, but
listen in amazement to the surroundings of my new self.
To witness sound while my closed eyes waited to open.
I listened to the voices of other children from whom
I was an outcast as their scorn and laughter made
their way to my large, ever perceptive ears
because I spoke with a lazy tongue.
I listened to the untamed sounds making their journey
through the breath, beating, and strings of instruments,
coming out as harmonies and melodies even to untrained ears.
I listened to the grief, tears, sorrows and joys of a changing life,
to the voices of others telling me how to live,
to my own, telling me not to follow their advice.
I listened to the sounds of a thousand crickets from a single
source, echoing off the wind in a room above the ocean bluff.
I listened to the bicycle wheels spinning beneath me
while I peddled hundred of miles in all directions.
I listened to the sea lapping and roaring against the shore
To the pelicans flying overhead, flapping and coasting,
diving into and feasting from the sea’s bounty.
I listened to the silent beauty of sunsets, the rising of full moons,
and the shooting of stars across the black night sky.
I listened to the purrs of kittens and the barking of dogs,
to my own ecstatic breathing after we made love.
I listened to the voice comforting me when I felt troubled,
giving aid and guidance when I was lost.
I listened to my own heart beating and missed it only
once on that day, a year ago, when it stopped.
I have been listening my entire life.
Now I wish to speak.
And so I spend my time remembering
that brightness which fills my soul
and tears apart my heart.
The courtship of queen and king,
the journeys shared and taken,
the love which held us together
when no hope could save us.
I open each door hoping you’ll appear
if only as a ghostly wisp of yourself.
Strange thing this swirling of lives,
the yin and yang, separated in union,
united by the one part
of the other each holds onto.
You fill so much of my life,
even, this time alone.
I know a place where time has
no points of reference to hold onto,
no hands sweeps across its well worn face,
no seconds eat away at existence,
no flashing light marks the arrival or passing.
Here, in this infinite space, all dreams live forever.
Everything, is expressed in the moment called now.
Here, each embrace is the only one I desire.
Here, I come whole and leave so much wiser.
The invariable mark of wisdom is to see the miraculous in the common. — Ralph Waldo Emerson
These things I know—
The soft words of love.
The solitary dreams of a poet.
The song of a thousand crickets.
The voice of a crying heart.
The pain and serenity of death.
The foretelling of dreams.
What it means to be free.
Anything you can think of is likely to pass away. —Rumi
If I had held you more tightly,
would you still have pushed me away
If I had loved you more passionately,
would you still have lied about him
If I had given you all of me,
would you still have held something back
If I had lived your life, instead of my own
would you still awaken beside me
If I had reached across this bridge of separation
would you have extended a finger to touch
If I fall in love again and give my heart to her
would the memory of failed love haunt me
If this poem is the one I shall die in
would you mourn my passing at graveside
Thoughts, words, unanswerable questions.
Weight bearing burdens so easily carried
by two small letters, an “I” and an “F”.