between

there’s a place between.
of occupying the holiness of longing,
of seeing
that wanting
is for what we don’t have.
while sensing
what is
is more than enough.
it’s a suspension bridge-
rope strung between two islands-
and how the wind does
make it sway.

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Go forth

Did you ever fall in love for the first time?

If not, I can tell you-

you’ll be changed.

The wind will be his kiss when he’s not

by your side,

colors will reach out with incredible loving hands,

the sweetness of a peach will impassion

every last one of your taste buds,

and music will have been composed, amazingly,

just for you..

Yes,

yes, that and more.

But that’s not what will change you-

not quite.

What will, however, rearrange your particles

after both the elation and inevitable suffering rip through,

what will wrap you up, enrapture your heart,

sing you to sleep, and bring you to greet each rising sun

with gratitude,

is a knowledge taught by your own body

that another’s adoration is not only not necessary

but that it was you who had to fall in love with you

all along.

But I don’t mean to ruin the game-

go forth

and fall.

The beauty of five a.m.

Darkness, silence, brightness of stars,

silhouetted tree crowns,

the beauty of five a.m.

I’m not sure why we forget,

so readily forget,

the preciousness we participate in.

These troubles, 

the wasting, threatening, destroying-

maybe turning ourselves right-side-round toward

birthing light

relies upon one task:

Remembering.

This little one

Longing comes with the light,

and sometimes leaves with it.

That’s how it goes when

nobody’s looking.

But a quivering dog needs a soft gaze

to make it real.

Gentle,

gentle with your eyes

and any movement-

this pup can’t take a stare

or a jumping out of your seat to say hello.

Fill a small dish by the door and,

when its brown eyes and cracked nose part

the hillside grasses, sit visibly

but out of the way.

This little one is hungry.

More than that, though,

loving.