Say Who I Am
The Pattern Continues
When love itself comes to kiss you,
don’t hold back! When the king
goes hunting, the forest smiles.
Now the king has become the place
and all the players, prey, bystander,
bow, arrow, hand and release. How
does that feel? Last night’s dream
enters these open eyes. When we die
and turn to dust, each particle will
be the whole. You hear a mote whirl
taking form? My music. Love, calm,
patient. The Friend has waded down
into existence, gotten stuck, and
will not be seen again outside of
this. We sometimes make spiderwebs
of smoke and saliva, fragile thought –
packets. Leave thinking to the one
who gave intelligence . In silence
there is eloquence. Stop weaving,
and watch how the pattern improves.
The Most Alive Moment
The most alive moment comes
when those who love each other
meet each other’s eyes
and in what flows between them then.
To see your face in a crowd of others,
or alone on a frightening street,
I weep for that.
Our tears improve the earth.
The time you scolded me,
your gratitude, your laughing,
always your qualities increase the soul.
Seeing you is a wine
that does not muddle or numb.
We sit inside the cypress shadow
where amazement and clear thought
twine their slow growth into us.
Say Who I Am
I am dust particles in sunlight.
I am the round sun.
To the bits of dust I say, Stay.
To the sun, Keep moving.
I am morning mist,
and the breathing of evening.
I am wind in the top of a grove,
and surf on the cliff.
Mast, rudder, helmsman, and keel,
I am also the coral reef they founder on.
I am a tree with a trained parrot in its branches.
Silence, thought, and voice.