Wednesday, July 3, 2019

Fierce Equanimity

Art by Leonor Fini

I know what I need.
Now . . . and . . . Now.
That is what matters!

Confusion doesn’t bother me. 
So, why do I travel the hazy unknown 
while gripping onto false assurances of certainty?

I dream of taking to sea in a seamless vessel,
grazing the fusion of water and sky and 
breathing in the ocean’s immensity.

Yet, I linger in the covert spaces
between beginning and ending,
between purpose and goal.

I resolve.
I journey. 
I flee. A random body on a premeditated ferry.

Where am I going?

Desire unlocks promises of consummation.
I wander inside my imagination.
I lose count of the hours,        
the days, the years.

Flight. 
Oh, and fantasy!

Come, now! Be present.
A shadow stalks the horizon.
A clock ticks on a cloud.

Here 
And now,
Time flees indignantly.

But, Oh, deceitful spirit, I say.
Beware! I, too, am insolence.
And, I am sovereign.

And, I am risen 
from this false dreamyours, 
not mine!

Friday, February 22, 2019

Confluence

Art by Dan-Ah Kim


I cannot tell you how or why.
I am sitting here in love 
with life and the world. 

Beyond.
Something else emerges. 
As if darkness were meeting light.

a ripple in one space resonates
throughout eternity

What are the parameters of
these false boundaries? What
am I too terrified to unleash?

Once again, my rapture
stretches out in every direction.
I falter… 
for one moment.
                            And.
                                     Tumble.

Wait.
I know what you’re thinking.

Don’t make assumptions.
Don’t say a word.

Just stay.
Bear witness.

Watch me tether
myself firmly to this ground.

Friday, October 19, 2018

Elemental: A Meditation

Unknown Photographer


After the storm:

Jade. Mint. Olive. Emerald.
How vastly these greens transcend my vision!

And, my vision . . . how infinitely
it pulses to the cadence of Demeter!

The sun glints off a dewy blade of grass.
The light streams in through a sliver of open window.
The air is honeyed with the scent of rose and helianthus.
The crape myrtles dally in the richness of earth and sky.

The fire of life burns vivid, unhurried, idyllic.

I still. 
Quiet, now.

My window—animated with spirit—leans 
into a stray breeze.

I am inside outside.

And, I am sun. And, I am rain. 
And, I am seed. Cracking.
Snapping. Eager to sprout.

Somewhere within this auspicious paradox
lives a certainty that resonates like gold.

Friday, June 22, 2018

Ceremonial

Unknown Artist


This is how I recall it:

A light lunch at my well-loved kitchen table:
crusty bread and baked camembert with
walnuts, rosemary, and honey. Then,
the coy invitation to take dessert outdoors.

Shall we? And, Certainly!
Crème brûlée? And, Unquestionably!

The streets glittered from the light rain,
and travelers came from near and far.

Taking cover beneath a bright umbrella, we spoke
in simple words—but, with what majesty!

Between us: two ramequins of saccharine rapture,
a sweating bottle of Chablis, and the sounds of
the ancient town, mingled with the voice of
Carla Bruni rasping out Enjoy the Silence...
or was it Quelqu'un m'a dit?

June held us in tender folds of silver and gold.
Immersed in our togetherness, I reflected:
Is this a betweenness or a withness?

But, oh, pranks of malleable memory . . .
Anything to lure us back into what once was!

Today, I stand in another June lightsilver and
goldremembering two women on a soft 
afternoon in Lille, and beaming. 

The grass holds tight to the ground, and to
the ten thousand blossoms here for the day. 
The bumble bees quiet and disperse.

A smile parts my lips as, ever so gently, evening
steals in—mild breeze and violet hues—startling 
me with its magnificent proximity. 

The symphony of twilight hums in my ears.
I shut my eyes and raise a glass: 
Santé, ma belle amie!

In this field of memory . . . nostalgia . . . 
wildflowers . . . 
dreams . . .      
I exult in
the enigmatic communion of then and now.