Monthly Archives: January 2015

The Will

The house needs cleaning

things today are strewn about

papers organized and unorganized on the long table

Here and there, there and here

The thinking often has a wandering of garbled

life experiences collected along the way

And in dreams  it has a layering like a watercolor wash

over what life has brought here and there

Once it was a measure of something essential

–how smooth and ordered these realities

appeared, were managed, shown to the world at large

As if such a point in time made me who I am

I bequeath all things inessential to the unfolding

of this life’s replete emanation to their essential returning

Where nothing is owed, owned, thought of, or held over

and not a stick or crumb or iota measured in time.

I have died to the life once lived as if there was

an achievement to rally, a fortitude to gain –each of these

offered as a replacement for Simply what I am as myself

What a beautiful death it is, this vibratory transfiguration

Here now this territory –without having any territorial

justifications   Opens out –without distance and no other

demarcations that once claimed any right   Singing its vastness

–not as performance or fulfillment  What a singing it is

And the house invites cleaning

things today dancing without order

some papers rest and others conversing on the long table

Life is here, there is life

I wait without the waiting

each moment a death and transmutation

That is what it can take at times when time is on the clock, the will

written, thusly forgotten –and life is, life is

San Cristobal, NM 19 January 2015

Thank you as always, Daniel, for your support and love!

Hoarfrost

IMG_20150108_103724507

 

It arrived as seeming magic yesterday morning

like a new reality being seen for the first time

and remains today sharing its glow still.

 

This touch comes via its recognition –cold but not

A distinct warmth arrives unbidden. The eye

is relieved of its usual work on these mornings

 

Dispensing with its familiar taint formed of other

kinds of vapor, which we gather throughout our

day to day interactions with this stuff of reality.

 

Hoarfrost permeates much the same in its blanketing

of every surface nook and cranny, defying gravity, comes

only when called out by the elements, its conspirators.

 

Colors shift and change, the light dances new dances

–a communion of deep appreciation of living things

that have their own mastery and workings reaches me.

 

This day to day eye softens its course, lays down its tools,

puts aside whatever ways it’s become accustomed to

seeing the world and takes an in breath, yes, breathes in.

 

San Cristobal, NM

10 January 2015

If This is It

I scour my dreams and other unconscious strata
As if there in that matrix rests that piece of me
The one I would know if you/I stumbled across it
Something about it –perhaps a certain shape or
The way it upends everything upon gazing on it

I might call it a gem, a treasure, a hobgoblin or
Better yet leave it unnamed as that is part of
Its alchemy and how it works –filters through
This strata then the next and then the next
Like a gaseous light a din a fragrance a chill

I have a special apparatus that knows how to track
This this It this wonder this knot, untying itself
Unraveling more than the traces it’s known in travels
Uncharted beyond and outside of time penetrating
Dense matter insinuating itself in likeness, similarity

And yet the very complexion perplexing disparity
Of its presence is what serves as leveraging whisper
Intoxicating tissue bone all that can be agitated
From its stance and form liquefying spine upright
Collapsing again and again simulacra –what upholds

It has looked like this –a plea, subjugation, crying out
It grasps at its subject of affection/disaffection
Target aim narrowing down to focus coddle foster
And yet this is its guise to act as something other than
To stand alongside waiting mentoring flummoxing

And bewildered I am with eyes and heart opened
By this raw wind searing through all persistent cracks
The draftiness of my being is somehow a grace, in which
The delivery of that which is unborn has yet been bared
Comes to its fruition, a soaking in of radiance undeniable

San Cristobal, NM 7 January 2015