Writing in Faith: Poems

Pieces

2010-01-05T21:24:00.002-05:00

Watching the waves
Rise and crest and dissolve
In a thunder of their own applause
Until all that remains

Is the magical foam

That skitters up the sand
Consciously chasing
The neurotic

Sandpiper

Singing a song of breakfast

And all the small life
That makes the sandpiper possible

I realize that I am in love
Deeply, passionately in love

That I would go headlong
Into those waves to prove
My love

But I don't.

Instead, I climb the stairs
Of the concession stand

To keep my feet dry

And step down again
When the wave recedes

The better that I might know my love,
That I might look love in the eye.

And then I realize:
I don't need to dive anywhere
Or to run away

But to stand still
And let the waves come

Comfort be damned.

Wings

2010-01-02T18:02:00.002-05:00

At dawn
Their spines emerge:
Parallel lines
Curving to the shape of the earth
And all that secret life
In their embrace

And then together in time
They roll onto their backs
And offer up

Everything

In the space between them.

Out of nowhere come three pelicans
To dive into that space
And take

Everything.

The waves roll again
Breaking and sighing

And drifting back to the sea
Tracing their life and breath
In the foam and soft mud.

And the pelicans

Have moved on,
Looking for more.

Pelicans do what they will
Waves roll

In the space of a breath

And it is good.

Thanks to Mojo for this photo.

One Single Impression

Alchemy

2009-12-31T20:41:00.001-05:00

Parallel lines scoring the sea

Rise and swell and surrender,

Melting under the heat and weight

Of the morning sun,

Curling into the previous moment

But not completely

Wind moves across the beach

And presses into morning,

Shearing off the foam

At the top of those cresting waves

And the spray surrenders

Into the lines that will become the waves

That will set at the feet

Of the waiting sandpipers

The prospect of breakfast.

We will watch and laugh

As they run from the water.

Why run, birds?

It has always been this way.

And so it will be.

You know that. You must.

All that surrendering

All that breaking apart--

How else to survive?

We wait and watch.

We are hungry, too.

For Mojo

Blog Your Blessings: The Right Words in my Hands

2009-12-25T09:00:00.001-05:00

A friend gave me samples of the teachings of Jiddu Krishnamurti the other day. The words he put in my hands were exactly what I needed, little did I know. I am very grateful for the friend, the gift, and the possibilities in both.

Krishnamurti:

In this torn desert world there is no love because pleasure and desire play the greatest roles, yet without love your daily life has no meaning. And you cannot have love if there is no beauty Beauty is not something you see--not a beautiful tree, a beautiful picture, a beautiful building, or a beautiful. Woman. There is beauty only when your heart and mind know what love is. Without love and that sense of beauty there is no virtue, and you know very well that, do what you will, improve society, feed the poor, you will only be creating more mischief, for without love there is only ugliness and poverty in your own heart and mind. But when there is love and beauty, whatever you do is right, what you do is in order. If you know how to love, then you can do what you like because it will solve all other problems.

The mind can pursue sensations, desires, but it cannot pursue love. Love must come to the mind. And, when once love is there, it has no division as sensuous and divine: it is love. That is the extraordinary thing about love: it is the only quality that brings a total comprehension of the whole of existence.

Blog Your Blessings

Returning

2009-12-21T20:26:00.001-05:00

When there is a stiff wind
I close my eyes and
I breathe deeply
Become a leaf
On the oak tree
At the corner
That never drops it leaves
Believes--
If trees can--
That it is a poplar
The way it holds on

The way it holds on

I shiver and shimmer
And the cold
And the danger of letting go
Become my music

I am there and I sing
Because I do not want to
Let go.

No.

I am that leaf
Watching you walk
In search of the certainty

That this tree does not drop
Its leaves
That music is imperative

That music directs
The rising
The setting
Of the day

I must make music

If only because
I cannot
Will not
Should not
Let go.

Not yet.

As Grains of Sand

2009-12-20T21:02:00.002-05:00

As grains of sand
Blowing across the surface
Of a beach and into the surf,

Disappearing and

Returning,
Reshaped and different,

Eternal,

So we move together

And apart

In friendship.

(For Mojo)

Wood Ducks

2009-12-02T21:14:00.000-05:00

Wood ducks. Dozens of them
Doing I don't know what
In my pond
In December
In the near dark
In the cold.

I had no camera

But I stopped and watched
Anyway.

All but two swam away,
Sending an ever-expanding V
Across the pond.

But those two....

They faced each other
Bowed their heads
Then dipped into the water
And up and face-to-face again
And around

They were playing

Mocking,
I think,
Those who had gone before:
Other ducks
Geese

Going somewhere

Because they must.
The inner voice, the drive--
You know how it is.

But these two.
They laughed in the face

Of must.

The sun went down
I went home
The earth turned
Into a new day

And the clouds of morning
Shimmered in the echo
Of laughter.

And splashing.

You Don't Have to Wish for It

2009-11-25T16:48:00.000-05:00

They seemed undecided
Disorganized
Up and around the meadow
And down again
And who would take the lead and
Who next
And down again
And all all that moving through the
Squelching mud and wet grass

What are you doing?
I thought.
Get up and go.
Do the V
And make me wonder
At the order you derive
From the air
Moving through your
Bodies.

Go. Stir my soul.

I stood and watched
Until

Finally

They did it.
Up and gone

And there I was
In silence and solitude

And the damp air
Shivered under
The pressure of their wings

Like ripples on water.

I rocked on me heels

In their wake.

Everyone
Everything
Goes.

You don't have to wish for it
Only wait.

Everything goes.

I am Jealous of Geese

2009-11-24T20:08:00.001-05:00

I am jealous of geese

Because they feel everything
With intelligence

And without,
I think,

Thinking anything at all.

The press of dried grass into their bodies
The thickening of the cold water
The fall of the leaves
The lessening of the light

And that thing we all have
That makes us do what our mothers did
Before us and before them
And so on

To tap into that wisdom
Without thought or shame

To reach for the air
With perfect faith
That it can be caught

And to go

Sure that return is possible
So long as you keep feeling
Everything

Without thought or shame.

I am jealous of geese.

Late August Blue

2009-08-25T16:32:00.000-04:00

These late August days

I look at the tired fields and

The slow and languid clouds

That are too lazy to

But will color the sunset

And I wonder how white and blue

Make bronze

How white and blue

Make honey

That drizzles sweetness onto

The cooling shadows of a still night.

I wonder.

But I don't need to know.

Don't really care to.

Slowly

2009-05-14T21:36:00.001-04:00

I would capture the leaves

As they fall

To save them the hard fate

Of touching a cold

Unwelcoming earth

I am ridiculous.

Why should I seek to stop such things?

Anyway

The unwelcoming earth

Refuses to take the leaves

The leaves must make their way inside

Slowly,

In time

With their own disintegration.

That is progress. Growth.

It is also letting go. Dying.

It is the only way.

What's That Like?

2009-05-04T21:03:00.001-04:00

Whenever I find an oyster shell

Soft as talcum and smooth as a bone

I wonder what it's like

To be held by the sea

In its ceaseless, rhythmic

Push and pull of wave after wave

Then cast down to the floor

To the coarse bottom, the darkness, the mystery

To lose a little bit of itself

Before the sea raises it to the surface again

To cast it onto the beach

As iridescent and smooth

As a pearl.

No corners, no edges

No ugliness

And I wonder how long it took

To arrive at this state of complete grace.

I used to keep such shells.

Now I toss them back

As I contemplate forever.

What's it like

To be the shell?

That's more than enough to think about.

Where Is the Rain?

2009-04-30T21:41:00.001-04:00

I want the rain

There are promises of rain

Over and over again, promises

But where is the rain?

I want the heavy skies

The piercing downpours

The breathless feeling

Of rising from a sea to warm air

Yes that's it

Finally I have it

I want the rain

I want to admit to the rain

That I love to breathe

And will

Despite it

Despite me.

Damn it.

Where is the rain?

Hushed

2009-04-16T21:15:00.002-04:00

Every cry for war and for peace
Of pain or pleasure,
Mercy or more, more, more
Every cry, every word, dream, hope
Is hushed by the break of every wave.

There is nothing to say.

Some People

2009-04-11T22:46:00.002-04:00

Some people, he said,
Are hard to get along with.
He meant me, of course
Because there and then
I was not getting along with him
Or he with me who can say
And so I fell into that vast category
In which there is always
Plenty of company:

Some people.

He had hoped his words would hurt,
Would leave me insecure, uncertain.
Oh please like me I will take back all I have said and done
To cause you to say that bit about

Some people.

But I didn't. I didn't care.
Some people are like that:
They have been summed up and dismissed
So many times
That the mathematics of social interaction
Hold no value
That the only thing that matters
Is the value of this absolute truth:

I don't need you need you to like me need you to
Want me around.

What I need
Is for you to know
What I care about
What you disagree with me about
Is what I care about is important to me

Some people can do that.
They know the game.

Need You, Need to Go

2009-04-03T23:00:00.001-04:00

There is a time and place
I am completely alone
And I need it to be that way
Need you to go to let me go to let it be
To let me jump in
Plummet to the bottom of everything
I know
Everything I have been
Everything I am
And to rise to the surface
Hearing only the sound of myself
Exhaling with all my strength
Saying this air is my life
I will let it go
I will not drown
And I will rise to the surface
Like a bobber
Light and lithe
And pleased beyond measure
That the fish got away
And I am free to float and float
And float away
Because the line is broken.
When I am completely alone
I drift home.
Let it be.

Ducks in the Wood

2009-03-31T21:18:00.001-04:00

I wanted to be them:
At once the landscape
And a couple, distinct and beautiful
Paired by destiny or accident
Or some act of some will
They stayed together
He showed off for her
She followed him
She was safer than he
Blending, as she did so well,
With the foliage of a summer past.
They saw me
Heard the camera
Swam with the current
Light and quick
Doing what they did because that is what ducks do
When people like me show up.

All was well, all was good
As they moved on but I followed.

I wanted to be them.

I did not get a picture.

Angels Fall

2009-03-22T20:49:00.004-04:00

Angels fall. It happens.
The morning star blinds them;
They stumble. They fall
So hard and fast their wings
Will not catch the breeze
And lift them up
So fast and hard their voices
Do not carry
Nobody hears nobody knows.
Nobody cares.
Angels fall. It happens.
There is nothing to do.
I see the fallen angel; I shrug.
Ashes to ashes, they say.
And dust to dust.
And the earth is good and kind
And soft, once the sting wears off.

It's good down here.

Get used to it,
Angel.

I had fun with the idea of fallen angels--the first one being Lucifer, or the Morning Star, of course. And then the idea of clay feet made me feel like I know this bit of garden crockery that failed to survive the winter.

Time to Do the Thing

2009-03-04T22:00:00.000-05:00

Falling backward into the pool--
That was a dare when we were kids
To lean and lean and fall
And hope against hope to land without pain
Into the open jaws of the water.

Silly us.
What was the danger?
That we might miss?
That the water might not be there?

Not likely.

What was likely:
That we might not hold ourselves right
And the water might slap us
Like an angry mother,
That we might descend into pain

If our form were wrong.

And that was so very possible.

That was then.
We were kids; it was a dare.

Now it's time to do the thing
Face first
With our eyes open.

A Love-in with the Rain

2009-02-19T05:44:00.000-05:00

The pulse of the driving rain
Is strong enough to wake me
At 4 o'clock in the morning.
Under a thick blanket in a warm bed,
I savor the last bit of being tired
That echoes in my heart
And warms me to my toes
As I press the button on the alarm
Before it can startle me.
I savor the last bit of being tired,
Imagine sleeping on and on,
Of making nothing more of this day
Than a love-in with the rain,
Of feeling warm and good.

I imagine it even as I push the blankets away
And step naked into the cold dark of the room.
I look back at the bed that holds the heat of my body,
Though of course I cannot see it.
It is too early yet to see anything

Even myself.

Cold and naked,

I reach for my robe,
Imagine being warm again

Another time

As the day begins.

Word

2009-01-19T09:11:00.004-05:00

The world
Was not conceived in darkness
But in the bright light
God was not on his back
But on his feet
With his eyes wide open
Calling in delight
The names of every beautiful work
Of his being.
If it is good--and it is all good--
There is no need for darkness.
You know it as well as I
You were there
With me
In the beginning.
We heard the cries;
We cried out, too.
In the beginning.

Let the people say:
Word.

Lacerate

2008-11-08T23:35:00.000-05:00

You say to a child
Do not use a word in its definition
But say what it means
Yet when the child asks
What does lacerate mean
All I can say is this:
Listen (and I speak slowly)
For the meaning in the sound:
Lacerate.
Do you hear it, child?
The very sound of the word
Says tear it to pieces, mangle it,
Leave it bloody and unrecognizable.
Destroy it in the most painful way possible.
Do you hear the history of the word
In these syllables, child?
And can you feel each one?
Tear to pieces. Rags. Naked.
Tear the naked rag to death
Did I say naked rag?
I meant her over there. That human.
Lacerate her.
Shall I use it in a complete sentence, child?
Would that better your understanding
Of this timeless word
For bloody destruction?

Paradox

2008-11-08T11:13:00.002-05:00

If we were stars,
Where should we find ourselves
In the night sky--
To counterbalance our faintness
And so make
Night as bright as day?
Would the two of us be enough?
Or should we call our friends and say,
"Stand in a circle around this world
Be the light,
Challenge every notion of night as
Darkness and not knowing,
Be the light,
Wake up to the mystery
Of all that is possible
By being
In the right place
At the right time--
Just be there"?

I think we could.

Olber's Paradox: "If stars are uniformly distributed through the sky, their number should counterbalance their faintness and the night sky should be as bright as the day." Named for Ger. astronomer H.W.M. Olbers (1758-1840), who propounded it in 1826. (Source: Etymonline.com)

Sargasso

2008-11-07T05:41:00.001-05:00

Where from, these trunks and lumps of trees?
The detritus of some storm I have already forgotten
Mottles the waterscape; there is no place to go,
Nothing to do but cut the engine.
Stop.
Surrender.
Drift.
Accept the time of day.
That's it.
Even if you sit all day.
You must
Think it through.

I recall this lesson from summers ago on a clear day
When there is a single bit of wood on the water
Troubling my course.

We could not move then so did not
And all was well
Eventually.

Alone now
With that one bit of timber
I cut the engine
And wait

Again.

Not to be Tamed

2008-09-25T05:35:00.001-04:00

This September sky will become my dream:
The fleeting light, the secret life
The cool, damp, dark of retreat
Into the still silence of deep rest
Where I am at home, at peace, at ease
Where I can lie down, look up
And be at once the hard earth,
A burning distant star, the air between
And a wild animal following a desire
That has no name,
Needs no name,
Names nothing.

You risk tears if you let yourself be tamed.
(Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince)