Beyond

Beyond
“Out beyond all ideas of wrong doing and right doing, there is a field.  I’ll meet you there.”    –Rumi

But getting to that field,

getting there, is so tricky

with landmines threatening

every step, nooses hanging

from every tree, and voices

pleading you to come back,

trying to convince you that you

don’t know where you’re going,

that you’re wrong—or maybe

even right—but you have to keep

going, have to learn how

to float, to dodge, to say,

“Thanks for your concern,

But I’m going anyway.”

Horses: Five Tanka

Horses: Five Tanka

With grace, wisdom, patience

even when they are stubborn and

unyielding, they surrender

so patiently, becoming

something we will never be.

 

With loyalty, understanding, and

the ability to hear pain, smell truth,

they sense things we will never know

or read because we are too foolish,

too stuck in our heads.

 

In their eyes, worlds—stars, oceans, skies,

all swirled together–inviting you to

enter so you can find everything

you need to do, to know, to feel,

before you can be whole.

 

Feel their strength, so contained and deliberate,

but so wild and raw, compelling you to

close your eyes and watch them run,

flinging bolts of life every direction,

exchanging ecstatic cries with earth and sky.

 

Standing next to them, absorbing their presence

is a gift, an opportunity to live and

change, right there in that moment,

with pieces of it, electric ribbons, spinning

in and around you, for days.

Differently

Differently
“Learning to love differently is hard…”   
—Marge Piercy, “To Have Without Holding”

 

My hands crack and creak

as these fists open, stiff fingers

reaching, trying to remember

how to touch, how to feel.

 

My heart cramps and catches

as I try unfurling it to reveal

everything it’s been writing, things

it thought nobody wanted to read.

 

My skin, pale and pasty, grabs

at the mask I try to peel

from the face finally curious

about sunshine again.

 

My lips, so accustomed

to reciting only certain phrases

struggle to release the wild words

gnawing through their cages.

 

Exhaustion attacks me;

I want so badly to crawl

back into that safe, tight space,

but my fingers keep reaching,

my heart keeps stretching,

my face craves daylight,

and my lips enjoy  the new

shapes they can make.

Sixty-Two Miles of Healing

Sixty-Two Miles of Healing

As I headed South, the moon

peeked over the mountains

and winked through the clouds.

Music reached through the stereo

to put his fingers all over me

while the moon hoisted herself

higher until she danced, fat and full,

right in front of me, her orange glow

slipping through the cracks

in my heart, lighting the way for music

to find his way in too, their shining

and singing honoring the brokenness

that allowed them to enter.

Imagine

Imagine

A night so cold

the sky might shatter,

leaving sharp pieces

on the streets for

gathering in the morning.

So cold, the stars

will sting as they rain,

nowhere to go but down

without a sky

to contain them.

And how would it be,

the world, with no sky

except for the piece

you hid in your pocket?