Category Archives: nature

Turning (my) World Inside Out

I am not a poet ~ the world, as I know it, is.

Everything everywhere.

 

I am not a woman ~ this world is a woman’s domain

and I am in it and of that.

 

Nature does not surround me ~ I am nature itself

and I live within  my own sphere.

 

I am not someone imagining what the world might become.

I am that becoming or that emergence in the making.

 

Hesitation ~ where and what are you? What is this task?

What are we creating as this conversation,

not much different than gestation, something earlier conceived.

 

Looking out is no more ~ it is not even looking within, it is the active principle

such as breath and breathing ~ continuous and life evolving,

does not need to be named to continue.

 

Approval ~ what are you ~ takes a unique set of circumstances

to make you relevant, to make your existence, to map the terrain

in which you stretch and wallow and bring forth your experience.

 

[There are many things we regularly turn inside out (socks, clothes), some even surprisingly, but when it comes to turning this world inside out ~ what of it? What not of it? When can I not do or see or perceive that is so when I receive that calling? Like birth, it comes of its own accord and in its own timing ~ such that we have evolved something we call death. Is that the world turned inside out, birth becomes something reversibly irreversible?]

 

The world is not me, I am the world emerging and forthcoming

~ only perception forms and forms and forms again.

 

Sometimes it takes listening to these things loudly, not quietly as some might suggest.

Turn the volume inside out and there is the advantage, the preeminent seeing of what is.

 

Turning the world inside out, I turn myself out into a world that has

not once yet rejected me or scorned me or humiliated me, but

has me at its very crystalline heart beat, pulsing as aliveness and ardor.

 

The world as poet opens her domain to the wide spread arms

of welcoming ~ laughing itself awake to itself, hesitatingly unhesitant.

 

Facing East

 

 

 

ah na ne ah ne 

ah na ne ah ne

ah na ne ah ne

ah na ~~~ ha ha ha

 

 

Perhaps not what comes to mind

when I say “facing east”

but I am facing east as I write

 

I’ve returned to facing east this morning,

within my small abode, mi casita,

within the place my body rests at night

 

There are three windows facing me,

facing east ~ even from the north

window I also look east

 

There is an unbroken line formed

by ridges, ancient rock, many footsteps,

& raven calls over ages & millennia

 

We can think we know of these,

of these ages, of these open wings,

of these breathing hearts

 

The call of the dove filters in

with the early morning sun fall

certain things are lit just so in the morning light

 

For me, facing east is just so,

taking in a perspective not quite my own,

but one offering nuances now welcomed wholeheartedly

 

And for as much as it is worth, I am in my own retrograde it seems

I find the inner landscape (here) filled with my own footprints

once traveled and laid by me to see (now) from this vantage

 

The gentling calls of the magpie to her mate

or her young & sometimes to me

soften these inner reaches

 

qua lia mia mo, qua ta te ah mo

qua lia mia mo, qua ta te ah mo

 

And now hummingbird joins, her wings one of the most

exquisite percussions that sounds, like a long awaited remedy,

breaking up the tightness of the heart, my heart

 

I say, “I have returned, my friends!”, facing east.

“While tending to the southern fires, I did miss you!”

And we rejoin now bringing calming & homecoming within.

 

If you have never tried or tested out

the malleability of time and timelines,

I heartily recommend it so. Move within.

 

This morning, before waking or parting the curtains to welcome the day,

I washed my earlier self, the one with certain struggles & bumps in her road, with a vibrant mix

~ the perfect spectrum of light and tonal vibration to let her know I am with her all the way.

 

Don’t take my word for it, you too can meet your own selves,

those that now seem long forgotten or destitute in that timeline of Ago.

For we each have such perfection of unique remedy and resolve,

 

Some of which we can share. And some of which is so precise

and unique to each one of us that it may be for us alone

to steep in, to take in, to sing openly.

 

[ sing to this moment now ]

 

This morning, before waking or parting curtains to welcome the day,

I washed my self, the one with certain struggles & bumps in the road,

with a vibrant mix: the perfect spectrum of light & tonal vibration

 

Letting myself know ~  I am with you all the way.

I am with you all the way ~ facing east.

 

 

So…

beyond comprehension

This radical

life

is so

simple that

it’s beyond a

comprehension

anchored in work-a-day

To be jobless is radical beyond

comprehension. We say in Perma-

culture that everything farms or works

And isn’t that precisely so such that how

can we use ‘work’ and ‘job’ synonymously

We are blind within What Is by filters of

our own making –own our making

our own making

How many

layers

deep?

What kind

of forest floor

is under your feet?

Will you lay yourself down

On that floor as a radical act

Of awakening to What Is

However prickly of a

bed that is seem-

ingly bereft of

the very

nutrients

(we are that)

that each of us

so thrive on: space

grace listening subtleties

Of being  Being of What Is

Did you ever notice that things

simply grow on their own and thrive?

So what’s this business we conjure up

each and every other moment of

the day today that is simply

the magnificence of life

unfolding as we are?

Comprehend.

You dig?

Let it

Be

Life

Itself

Beyond.

 

Thank you Shareable. This poem is partly inspired by this interview on jobless living:
[This poem is #2 in a series dedicated to revisiting poems that were written by me as part of my participation in a collaborative and experimental poetry blog: IMUNURI.blogspot.com. So… was written and first published 3 July 2013.]

Astrolabe… contemplating Rumi

Rumi Hawk Ocean sky copy

inter

-weaving
as we go
unseen character
infuses lesser known
gods of titration
and arbitration
snow crystal
monument
just under foot


Interweaving ground:sky

Keeping Still

You, you hold a mirror

watch the slight presence

–breath on the surface

Movement occurs again

and again within stillness

 

I, I see the dance

the dancing partners

I, I – you, you – we, we

leaning in, giving way

leaning in, holding

 

Movement, motion is

–no disturbance

while All arises

stillness dancing

of surface and within
image

Mountain, mountain reflects

Instead of twisting

and spinning in circles

trying to grasp

your self, keep still*

 

*quote from Hilary Barrett ~ I’Ching Hexagram 52, Stilling

Coyote Blue

We walk our usual traces

along the back fields, now quiet

 

Once we had conversations

of a bovine-canine nature

 

Blue amongst the blue

sky and young ruminants

 

But today  there you stood

catching my eye and my breath

 

And this conversation was all

there needed to be    In pause

 

–I stood with you in kind

What order of listening is this?

wpid-wp-1447101059056.jpg

 

 

 

When you chose to take leave,

I found you had left something

 

With me  –a grace that not only

touched but held my own Wild

 

While Blue reminds me of the life

shared within walls I call Home

 

You today –show me we walk together

what once were walls, dissolve into vastness