In the expanse of gentle
Releasing
All that we were
All that we had
And all we created
Together
I am an arc in the heavens
A dancing, vivid refraction
And reflection
Between
The rain of my heart
And
My beaming soul
In the expanse of gentle
Releasing
All that we were
All that we had
And all we created
Together
I am an arc in the heavens
A dancing, vivid refraction
And reflection
Between
The rain of my heart
And
My beaming soul
May a river of love
Cascade through your being
May your soul grow
In the lush landscape of peace
Arising on a sculptured cliff
Expecting the cool embrace of my familiar
As she had welcomed me the day before with
A misting flutter through cypress branches.
Yet, pulling back the curtains,
A clear day dawns with
Pink, yellow, and orange along the horizon
Like Birthday Streamers
Reflecting in waves splashing peninsula rocks.
Surrounded by whistles and chirps,
Frogs sing in their creek while
Monarchs and bees call among
Pride of Madeira and Indian Paintbrush:
All the world will celebrate
And say you are loved
If you listen.
Give me tall trees instead of tall buildings,
Unruly undergrowth instead of urban sprawl —
Let me get lost in the forest,
And I’ll find my way to the center of my soul.
I am in love
with salt and petals
gravel and clouds.
A galaxy of miracles
Brings us together.
Gravity pulls like rip tides in my veins
To swirl amongst your forests and fish —
A child of your mist.
To honor Earth Day, this year I am sharing two poems to show the beautiful and devastating reality of being a human on this planet right now. Both of these poems are remixed excerpts from my book Varanasi Sage.
“She Comes to Me”
I am soft and humble, yet unafraid
To share space with Titans,
Entities Unfathomable,
Spirits born from the depths.
I am a guest in their great hall.
Quietude surrenders me,
Dissolving me into the air,
The empty space.
Here
She comes to me,
The truest part of me, for
I am made of Her living body.
My heart turns over to Hers,
And our sacred Oneness,
Endlessly present in time.
“Where a Temple Once Lived”
Ghosts stand visible with
Charred, barren limbs
Naked arms reach for mercy
Bodies no longer breathing
No longer creating clouds
Nor home for animals and insects
Burned alive
Electrical wires cross the hills
Like music lines forming
Measures of a strange and deadly song
A transmission tower’s guilty buzz
Plays the melody composed by
Corporate greed
Man wasn’t exiled from the Garden
He chose his depraved separation
On a boulder, beside the ocean —
an emerging canyon —
beneath a waterfall and crumbling cliff,
I listen.
Faithfully creative, guiding the way,
waves and boulders collide in foamy syncopation,
painting bubble mandalas in the sky.
As the reclining sun made dense fog glow, I walked the path I had walked like a thread through my years. Memories returned a child, in these same feet, on this same path to the bus stop, imitating the red-winged black bird’s melody with her newly-developed whistle.
With my first steps, I realized my pocket computer remained on the nightstand. Breathing the mist that merged land and sky, I didn’t miss a step. I didn’t need it — that taker of presence — I knew this path by heart.
Along the creek, where we made movies with my father’s camcorder, and across the highway that never was this busy, I entered the forest. Owls lived in those trees, but now, only morning birds sang. Their notes brushed past the silver, camphor-scented leaves. Our mother accompanied them from a quarter mile away. Her watery voice now hushed; her soul now quiet.
A narrow trail of sand through sap spikes took me from the forest to the cliff’s edge. The sun, unable to break the clouds, allowed the sky to hug me beside the Pacific’s expanse. Water and heaven: indistinguishable at the horizon. Ferocity made soft.
Nothing between us, no dark window in my palm to disconnect my heart, nothing to take me away. In the salt air, I slowed to enjoy my solitary humanness and my awareness of each now.
My eyes embraced the world.
I stopped for a sparkle. With dew in diamond beads set symmetrically along each finger, a lupin leaf extended its palm to touch the day. Color called out and my eyes drifted to magenta muffin cup petals. Inside, on the yellow puff pillow, a bumble bee dozed.
I reached for my pocket to document the sight, immortalize the memory, grasp and clasp at this now. To share it with my friends and receive heart-eyed emojis — each one a chemical thrill. I shook my head at the addict within and her insistence to go back and fetch the screen.
Instead, with nothing between us, I sat and observed the bee’s bottom rise and fall as it napped in its flower bed. Royal palms stretched to me, asking me to stay beside the ocean, held, as mist strung glittering beads in my hair.
Give me the faith of seeds in winter
Lend me the strength of the earth’s molten core
Help me to trust that your good rains down
And fills my spirit with a deep reservoir