No Name

Don’t name a stone,  

Or the stream it lays by.

Even the trees are orphans.

This sensing, feeling thing

Comes waltzing in.

Carrying price tags,

Authentication labels.

Do I claim the waltz as my dance?

Its only a tune I

Can’t get out of my mind.

Let the chords ring themselves out.

When upset comes.

Don’t try to clean house.

The dust will only settle into cracks

And make you cough later.

When a strong wind brings

A troop of wild dancers to your town

And their relatives too,

Don’t try to run them out.

Sit with them, let them swirl.

They are only ghosts from the past.

Strings of DNA sliding across

Your field, into view

Invited, but not asked to stay.

Begrudged, and loved.

Dance, if you feel like it.

If it troubles you, let it go.

Shortly,
If you feel generous,

Let them pass on,

without paying a toll.

To Live

Believe, and you are transported

To childhood, pleasing to live.

Uphold, and you will be chained

To a train, hoping to arrive on time.

Is life is aligned with flexible principles

and dammed up, dumbed down feelings?

Take a chance. Fly into a rage,

Soar into jealousy. Cry into grief.

Let the monstrous wave you thought

Was better left alone

Tear through your day.

It would be presumptuous to say, Live.

You were already living. Lite.

One Line Poem

This bird turns into something.

Going Somewhere?

Why pretend that your crazy, souped-up, cyclonic mind is going somewhere?
That your water runs deeper than sages, deeper than the core of earth.
Trust, if you can, in mystics' paths that wind through labyrinths of time.
I'm glad your meditation purrs into Kundalini fireworks up your spine.
Fall back, if you must, on ancient scripts and find Love there.
Lapse into daydreaming, serious funks, or fits of laughter.
Where could you go that could be called pristine?
Holy poets sang the heart songs, that lead us.
But when I am in my head and know it,
I hear the GPS' words: "Recalculating"
Later, a slight ringing in my ears,
Is all the wisdom available.

Entrouvert

Are you an unraveled thread hanging on a garment?
Not part of the fabric.
Not yet swept up with the dust?
Entrouvert.

Like Janus, spirit of the doors,
One facing into concentration,
the other into rest.
Peering into "Oh" and glancing back.
How can we recognize our self
when we are spread so thin?

It is not obey, but abeyance.
Not a thrill but still.
That I was like something seen in a photo album.
Me, but then, gone.
Today's vistas command the
only attention there is.

Sing Under Guard

Surrender yourself as if under guard.

You don’t own yourself.

And never did.

Nothing to choose.  Nowhere to go.

Strong silent commands lend movement, direction:

Go here, do that.

Let the pure radiance of no will

Seep into your edges.

Move from that deep place.

Thoughts have no end.

Just do every chore, from the center of your deep heart.

Walk around, untethered to your senses.

Sing under guard. Make love under guard.

Nothing you can do, or say, will change what is.

You cannot be lost.
                                                    (revised from 2005)

In The Moment

Take this moment as it comes.

Wait for nothing better, nothing worse.

Ride the day like a sleepy child on a shoulder.

Carried, watchful, trusting.

Contribute nothing.

Get ready to lose your most precious self.

Choose drama or freedom.

No right, no wrong, just dreaming.

Create no causes, own nothing.

Drop everything you carried.

Watch thoughts rise and fall.

They are not yours.

Who am I? What am I?

Well you may ask.

Names from the past dissolve.

To tell the Truth…say nothing.

What do the eyes see?

Pure stillness, in motion.

Love incarnate,

in all that is.

Is this all?

Everything is here.

Be curious.

Hints abound!
                                                        (revised from 2005)

Clever Words and High Walls

If I oppose the moment,

with some thought about yesterday.

Flying over Now to get someplace else.

Where have I misplaced that peace?

Nothing is to be found in fixing, dreaming, improving.

Only here can I rest or resist.

Mind content holds all that manifests.

Unfolding secretly, to those who have their own ideas.

Openly, to those with curious hearts.

Opposition sustains me.

It runs full out, often enough.

Kidnapped, swept away, transfixed.

Then something takes a hand. Decoupled.

Slowly leads me from the wild dancing to a chair.

Laughing. Where is the external really?

Over the high walls we are so fond of?

Under substantial platforms?

Clever words can leave faint smiles,

But behind that, it’s wide open.