The Forgetting and Remembering

The forgetting and remembering 

Are braided so tightly

It leaves deep angsty grooves

In the mind and in the body

Tension that True Nature wishes to relax,

Over-efforting fails to smooth out

Mental creases 

Until the sitting occurs

And it is not immediate or pretty

Inner chatter broadcasts in the brain

Physical form attuned, shifted

Opening the eyes, then sighs

Making notations belies what is wise

Attachment, Aversion, Delusion-

Three poisons dripping all over everything

How to deny consumption?

With each breath, return to the path

The exhalation allows release

Dismissing imperfections like this 

The inhalation welcomes awareness

Including what is not amiss

Right here

Right now

Is only

This moment

Come back to practice

Over and over; and over again still-

Remember what has been forgotten

The braid hangs loose, at will

Family Heirlooms

Shame slips in, hooded in the cover of darkness

Insidious, it begins its work, undetected until

A landslide leaves you, stunned suffocation-

Shock is a sneaky way to rewrite a story

And while you begin the work of removing

Heavy narratives and half truths, breathlessly swimming

Inside a thickness of what you've been told is yours

The poet has opined as much (in prior drivel)

Then stopping to sit, a rare shaft of light

Brightens what has yet to be considered

And sudden expansion replicates-

You write lines that move and hold true

How Shameful

How shameful to be pulled 

So far 

        (Society’s collar and leash)

From the fraught moments of childbirth 

A baby then breastfed

Warmed by more than milk-

        (A nourishment inherent in this pause)

Sacred 

Bathing in retrospective sweetness

The miraculousness of a milestone 

Met and forgotten

        (Frivolously filed away, a new day)

New strangers dressed up as years 

        (Wedged and hardened, sticky)

Bloated rings, an overgrown Elm 

Brittle bark flakes, reveals and conceals-

          (An easily contained ecosystem)

Lurking beneath the surface 

Insidious and darling, all of it 

A Soft Place to Land

I call upon words to wrap 

like a blanket or a balm 

Pinning pain before it evolves into

suffering

In doing so, 

I will it to have meaning

Or beauty

Or integrity

Something. 

The staccato currents internally dodge

Conventional language and dancing fingers 

Spread longing, letters lacking character 

Pecking at a keyboard with intentions

A collection of the mind's inventions

What is missing?

A rendering to capture this experience:

The core truth of it ambles onward, 

Strikes blast in such a way to remind 

Standard discourse, unwilling to convey 

Grasping occurs anyway until I hear

"I am going to be okay"

Because essence matters enough

Today.

Grappling with paradox:

Practice prides itself on purposefulness

The terrain of possibilities 

unfurling like a dragon's breath

Mystical, with a reach that extends

into vast space and time

Corners crumble and curl away

surrendering to infinite rolling

Billowy smoke stacks fill the chest,

Demanding emancipation

Holding on is futile

The sense of uncertainty sitting 

Tall is all 

That can be called Certain.

Stones settle:

Sacred.

Worthy of respect I come to see

that I can honor with reverence 

the silt that slips, unsure 

Of what is and will be more. 

An opportunity to practice

true release and faith feeling into, 

The uplifting in the beyond

Divine Order 

Grace 

Mercy

A tall team felt so strongly

In colors pulsing behind my eyes 

Fluffing my wings, ever so lightly

Clearing a safe pathway 

Reminding me to "look up"

Inviting me to request 

A free fall backwards

into what lies ahead 

Assuring me a landing, soft-

A bed of poems and metaphors

That will catch me 

Carrying me all the way home

To My Self. 

Goodbyes to Ghosts

Shadows tip-toeing behind us, faded

Our eternal light, luminously created

Dark parts held firm, nice and steady

Integration awaits my heart, open and ready

I see our iterations, so dear and so clear

Our silhouettes wearing suits made of doubt, fear

What was once you I see now as a ghost

What was once me I see now as a host

A reckoning rattles- releases- a grip

Our story an old tale, a beautiful blip

Ghosts that gaze, connecting as one

I am released- sigh- that story is done 

The me that I see discovers you waiting, at ease

Your heart now thawing out, a long deep freeze

Sunlit fingers laced together, we pray

The contours that back us now point the way

Goodbye

My shadow will always belong to me

Your ghost will always be kindred, free 

Presidents Day Haiku

Dirty window glare

Dog hair scotch tape shadow truth

Dust floats as a ghost 

🐚🐚

On "doing the work"

Recently someone asks what it actually means

"to do the work" 

Appreciation for candor and demands to simplify abstractions

Yet leaning into it, and making space for what comes up

is indeed the work 

When a bird appears outside the window, may we find the ability 

to pause.

May we untangle ourselves from the frenetic pace of doing 

to observe.

May we allow it to be there in all it's bird-ness 

to get curious.

Most especially if it's a crow or a blue jay-

May we examine what is happening 

on the walls of our interior world

May we see magic, matching exterior decor

Warning: it may feel yucky...stay with it

Sink deeper still. 

May something soar through:

A memory

A realization

A connection

Swimming in liquid metal, insight pools 

Permanent welding to this discomfort, not a chance

Marinating does not breed pain

Rather raises it for illumination, new spotlight:

 Truth. 

Clear seeing, leading to wise understanding

leading to acceptance, leading to release.

May you watch the bird's wings as it flies away-

You've done the work. 

Keep going...