Snow monkeys

When snow monkeys come

to Dharamsala,

the cedars speak louder their wordsong

and blue green saturates sky

made milky by rains.

Taking coffee at a bistro table and

looking up to catch eyes looking down–

Moonpeak behind and unwalked horizon ahead–

wedding pen to paper becomes

a most important act.

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Elated business

Hummingbird scratches

before zipping off her oak twig perch

to import elated business to pine.

Her tongue flashes free a moment 

before flight.

One hovering wiggle and the flowers burst

into a contagious grin.

If only

I weave gold

from Light.

When next you find yourself reaching for rope

to heft yourself back up from the cavern,

I’ll be within your palms

for eager fingers to twist around.

The strength is in you,

the Way is in me.

Nothing created lacks

the gifts of gold,

if only you will commit yourself

to listen.

In warm dark

Older even than yesterday,

not by loss or separation but

through integration.

Finding one’s bones calls together pieces

held apart

by the paralysis of stories requesting endings.

When settled back into bones,

whole now,

a new story begins.

Fire and Wind,

Light and Shadow,

Earth and Water,

the pairs learn

where to weave their edges-

fingers finding each other in warm dark.

This is full movement,

empowerment,

the invitation of Being.

For that,

there are no words.

Outside time

Our lips found each other last night.

How, I don’t know.

But the soft skin hidden on you 

came to the same softness in me.

Bringing you back,

wherever you are,

takes no effort-

moon and light align

outside time.

Joyous reunion.

but, in sleep, forgot

extending a hand

for a body not there,

a person

you thought you left behind

but, in sleep, forgot..

snapping awake,

heart speeds

until you find ground again,

the flicker of light-

even in

gone

beauty arrives.

laughter sweeps the dusty doorway

for friendly toes-

yours definitely,

another’s,

maybe.

either way, the path

is clean and clear

You call my name

You call my name

when I go to that place I don’t understand,

the one where the word for terror was unknown.

Your firm, tender voice reaches in,

helps pull me out

of history that feels like a drowning.

Reclamation becomes devotion.

New birds continue to perch on the tree,

a proof the threatening waters

did not claim me.

When you call, I return 

from somewhere losing its strength

to possess.

Difficult to say,

but I couldn’t do this alone.

I hear you call,

Thank you.

Hold on…

the sensations of embodiment

leave me breathless

with the smallest breeze,

walking across the floor,

reaching for salt,

sneezing…

invite eons of exploration

hold on, that flower is feeding a bee…

Before upright is upright again

I love your puffy morning face,

the one no other gets to see,

in the soft time before lymph starts moving 

and upright is upright again.

I love your puffy morning face.

The absence of fear amidst such joy

caught me unaware-

How different this is

from all the rest.

Such daring as this

Such daring as this,

as this,

the brilliant awakening of spirit to form,

the recollection of our song,

song of the universe.

We clear the way,

set fire to the brush, roll boulders away,

push dead, fallen trees back from the path-

We face our fears,

welcome and dismantle them,

in a full-bodied knowing

of our own magnificence.