Upon waking on cold winter morning,
Found myself walking down the white lane,
Breathing in bracing frigid air,
Breathing out the secret unspeakable name of God….
Cold air clarifies far reaches of the calling of this day,
Inhaling the shivering pain that lays against the world,
Exhaling warm compassion from the Spirit world;
What does it take to take the vision deeper—
To expand the gateway as we walk the long white road,
Hearing the call of sacred imagination,
Walking upon the slippery path
But with courage to always dance the dance….
Do you see Winter’s Eye
Ready to set unblinking in the west
Where eye cannot trace its blazing path
While we wait in hours of darkness
Longing for turning of the Earth to bring
Round and round invisible and underneath all things,
Emerge in east with whatever light
Winter will allow recurring on cold freezing days—
What metaphor the world does show
In concrete form within such theme,
Perennial we seek while here we wait,
All existence but form
For union’s goal to be exposed.
Last night blowing wind sent snow
Across western plains, wide lakes
Where no one has a place to lay his head,
Wind blowing where it likes to blow,
Howling, drifting against the house,
Walkway and car covered with ice.
In dark of night, the Wandering Rabbi spoke,
Upsetting what little calm remained within the dream—
“Take nothing with you, no wine or loaf of bread, no blanket,
Before sleep comes, shake dust from sandals,
With bare feet lie upon Mother Earth.”
There is no need to pray for arrival of Spring—
No need to hope for what we know God brings,
All in good time, all in good time….
Allow the drifting snow to teach
Deep patience that cold Winter knows,
Blowing into the dimness of our dreams,
Forever watching in our present darkness,
Keeping awake for when strong wind brings greater Light.
Winter clouds hang above cold water—
Daily, snow crosses my mind.
White clouds as light as feathers
Hang thin threads of gold and gray
Displayed above the barren fields.
Tonight I walk under bitter winds and rising Moon,
White stand of birch
Provides habitat of silence—
Roots upon the frozen ground,
Waits for another snow to blanket
.Hard Earth with soft powder.
A friend who is dying
Would trade her blanket on the bed
For walking in a foot of snow tonight or
Lying in coming sunlit grass of spring.
Water in the brook will run dry
Before she finds warm nights,
Calling of transient birds as
Fleeting as the breath of life.
I pause before knocking at her door,
Pray whatever flowers bloom within her room
Will last another day or two—
And pray my prayer is overheard.
Words lead on to other words,
Join themselves to thought,
To universe of abstractions,
Pregnant in generating power—
Yet are only words,
Mere creations of the reflective mind.
Reality is silent.
Come sit in my kitchen.
I’ll boil water for cup of black tea
While scones warm in the oven.
Pull up a chair—
Pass stone jar of raspberry jam,
Thick clotted cream….
Already I taste it on your lips,
Sweet as red fruit, luscious
As your brown eyes,
Naked feet upon my thighs.
For now we will talk,
Allow intercourse to lead
To yearning of tender heart,
Dwell in hours of beauty
As shadows of late afternoon
Slowly fade to night.
Today my soul sets off upon new journey
Seeking, longing for its fuller Self.
Sometimes I cannot tell if
I move forward or back upon the path….
The way clarifies without a folded map,
One step, one step, one baby step
Slowly the path appears.
Deep within the silence,
Core of Love shines forth
Where only Love is infinite—
All the rest is fallen leaves.