It Only Happened Once

 It’s only happened once,
As a matter of fact just today,
Two days past the middle day of May,
Spring having made the world entirely green….
I stood upon the deck at quiet evening,
Looking up into clear sky and saw a flock of birds,
Then a second flying after in silence,
Wings beating air so fast
I thought their hearts would break.

My heart broke to see the sun begin to set,
Hint of rose upon distant hills above the lake.
Whatever hopes and weight I carry,
Let go, let go within the gentle breeze.
I pin my weight upon that first flock of birds—
My hopes I send with second band that follows
Flying fast and clear toward approaching night.

I do not know where they will fly,
What they carry already lies forgotten as a dream
That passes quickly in first morning hour,
Weaving mysterious way so quickly–
Disappears as though it never came,
Never had a message, never had a name.

Cast Out Among the Dying Morning Stars

 While sound asleep within dead of night,
I heard a voice, perhaps it was a dream….
Dark voice called out for me to wake.
I rose and paced the room,
Knowing I could not sleep again,
Drove down to nearby beach,
Stood upon the quay to watch emerging
Morning light begin to drive the dark away.

Through dying night I lost restless sense of peace.
At first I thought it feverish imagination,
But slowly dawned visible through gloom
Presence of dark body, bloated, floating,
Like a great wheel slowly rolling in breaking waves.
All was silent but the murmur of the tide,
Body drifted closer, drawn inside the silence.
Now I could no longer hear the sound of the sea.

My breath was shallow as waves that washed
Upon the waiting shore.
The world was still as the body, clearly naked,
Tumbled numbly on the sand.  Now in greater light
I saw it was a dolphin, dead, no smell of blood
Yet stench of death was in the air.
Still, I felt no fear, no rising of hair upon nape of neck,
No prickling of the spine but coldly curious as a doctor,
Observed great wound upon its side.

Down upon the sandy floor I walked,
No intimation of dread, yet heart as heavy
As penitent on knees in church,
Confessing murderous sin to priest.
But why had some Voice within,
Some ancient god called me to this place,
To witness such an awful sight as this?

Then along the corridor of feeble mind
I heard the wordless answer…..
One day my own death shall come,
Warmth of blood made cold against black iron.
If I do not witness such small tender death as this,
Then all the more I’d be swallowed by my fear,
Strangled by clinging attachment to the world.
Reluctantly I pause and learn dark reality as this—
Nothing lasts.  Calmly face when it’s time to let go.
There is nothing to be feared in death.

I hesitate, hold spiritual breath, refuse to turn away,
Offer prayer for this past life now lying at my feet.
Already its skin hard waxen stillness, no moving eyes or tail.
Soon the gulls and crabs will have their feast,
Good fortune found in eager work of desecration.
Called to witness such perversity,
Compassion flows within the heart,
Gently touch the beast to offer blessing.
Somewhere know I must carry gray-blue imprint,
Heavy wound of my future fate glowing faintly,
Cast out among dying morning stars,
Weight of inner work for today and also for tomorrow.

With Every Step, I Stop

Walking upon the path,
I realized uncertain was the goal,
Distracted by what was lost within the fog.
Walking in wrong direction
Is something I hate to do— leads nowhere.

So I paused, realized my path is one of stopping,
Enjoying every moment, every step.
No matter what direction, I am walking home….
Arrive whether striding or sitting,
Held tenderly within the morning fog.

Traffic Jam Within My Life

Driving down the road today
I came to sudden stop,
Surround by other cars before, behind,
Stuck in morning traffic jam.

Suddenly my mind flipped,
Turned perspective around to see
I am not stuck in traffic—
I am traffic.

I am stuck within a crowd, unaware….
Thinking thoughts that others think,
Living out complaints that others give to me,
Walking through the world eyes open,
Yet completely blind and half-asleep.

Like living in large city,
So many bright lights at night
I cannot see the stars, forget they brightly shine
As much in day as in the darkest night.

So, too, does Ego blind me to the larger Soul,
And encompassing everything is the ALL.
I grasp at straws so I think I now know,
Make the ALL small so I can give a label.

No wonder I am stuck in traffic jam,
Driving down streets with eyes closed against blazing Sun,
Refuse to see the larger beauty or the stench of suffering,
Living in smog created by the mind.

Last Threshold

Since none of us is perfect,
When walking across last threshold
We’ll leave behind both
Blessings and curses, received and given….
Many things started and even more unfinished.

As you set foot upon that ephemeral path,
May you leave behind a room of praise and laughter.
Swim naked into undertow at eventide,
Turn your head and wave goodbye
Toward those who remain upon this plane,
Cleanse your heart of all that clings—
Give voice to a final blessing.
Leave with only gratitude.

Be as strong and good as you can be,
Pass away upon that final breath
Merciful and free—
Forgiving others and yourself.
Thank your body and see it
As an object of beauty to be left behind.

Take the same path the Sun’s been taking
For ten thousand years and more,
Further than far shore of the western sea,
Beyond where even shadow is permitted to go.
Take off your shoes, walk barefoot
Into the waves and breaking foam,
Rise to underbelly of the clouds
Then outward to where source of revelation comes,
Drifting into illumination of White Light.

Miracles Are Not About the World

 This morning I looked in the mirror—
Could not see myself but only your reflection.
I closed my eyes and opened door of the soul.
There in stillness, my universe collapsed—
Years seemed to pass and all I saw were fading morning stars.

My heart unfolded as blossom opens
When Sun rises over trees in early hours….
Within that sheltered space where heart knows love.
I heard an old forgotten song—
Whether my song or your song I could not tell….

Miracles are not about the world—
Instead they show what’s inside the soul,
Mysterious, yet so very real….
Join us to the wonder of Being—
This time, discovered as I saw myself within your eyes.

Something about this very moment
Seems imbued immemorial and universal.
It gives ephemeral substance to the world—
Your eyes, your skin— they teach my heart throughout,
Convey a tender union with Reality,
Fleeting— whether I wish otherwise or not.

Where the Body and Spirit Are One

When I went to sleep last night
It was moving through the world….
Still moving, startling as much as
Strike of lightening in the vibrant air
As I opened eyes in morning.
 
Standing, I look around amazed, confused,
Wondering where the beginning comes from,
Where does it goes when it seems to go away.
One day I found it in eyes of a neighbor,
Another time while watching soaring hawk,
Another was in mosquito buzzing near my ear.
 
I don’t know if I should say “Excuse me?” Or “Excuse me!”,
If I have failed to notice or see or hear
Within endless noise, distractions collecting in corners
Like a spider web within the mind.
Yet when I turn around, it is immediate and clear.
 
I so want to know…. watch my hand reach out,
Yet my hand says “No!”, suspended in mid-air.
No use to try to appear authoritative… only pause,
Pause and smile at how useless pretense wants to cling.
I know nothing and no one is to blame….
There is hesitance to embrace,
Awkward slowness within the mind—
Embarrassment if someone sees timid indecision,
Desire to keep it secret as though
Sexual act in bed within the dark.
But even there— it’s here, it’s everywhere.
 
Have you ever found it?  Ever lost it?
Do you search within doubt or imagination,
Unlock the inner door, run outside
Barefoot in green grass to dance before
Dew burns away from rising sun?
Do you walk within the carnal woods,
Swim terrified with glistening fish in lake,
Sing alone in shower or wordlessly pray under full moon,
Standing right upon silent edge—
For there is where the trembling Center lives.
 
Pause.  Be patient.  Become the impulse that brings you
Deeper into adolescent dark, young and curious,
Alive and one with body’s sensual moment.
Do not settle for idol you’ve had before.
Do not settle for pornography yet again.
Leap into the body and spirit whole
Where breath of God inhales you…. breathless,
Exhales you back into the world enthused.