Monday, August 29, 2011

Poems IX


where do we go
with our bare cosmic selves --
a lapse and a fall,
and then that same fear
of losing control of all that is dear --

there is nothing but nothing
above and beyond,
but only full greatness --

and stillness
of souls
trapped in a world
that hates them,
and jails them,
makes them afraid of their naked pressed hearts,
lovely intense in full hurt --

occasions of feelings,
flesh and blood still,
though beings
so blind,
seeking inside
does shout terrified --

dare we open ourselves
to our finally selves,
and look for the truth
of an ache,
or a haunt,
or a wanting within --

lest we burn out the lie
like a sun in the desert,
like a punch in the gut,
like a fire on fire on fire --

we have nothing to fear
but the desire to live,
the desire to feel,
the desire to be --

now a spring of our well,
and a spill of our selves --
a fall down and up,
a journeying trip,
a life unescorted
to One.


Complacent, at best,
though I thought I was full,
and a rip through my artfully,
hopeless spun life
changed me forever,
for better.

Sunshine and dreams
and a throat woven gold --
you peeled off
for a moment of real,
and then there was us,
two pleading palm fronds
in front of each other,
just then, but for always,
swaying in breezes,
almost (but not)
touching the tips
of our leaves.

Our suns melted down,
liquid and burned,
but imbued with a hope
of a moon full of you,
anew with my I
(and a crystalline thundering sky).

This nightingale night
is the wake of my breath,
the windchilly swear
of my soul.

I'll never go back.
I am not the same girl,
I am not the same self,
I will flow and continue
to dream in full color
and beaches,
and reach for the heavens
I have here on earth.

I have unswept myself,
I have filled you with dust,
and now I can know
what I did not dare know --

it was me who created
and made me myself,
a new me within
(though with you without),
forever my ever,
but better.


  1. I especially like the last two stanzas of Dayfull. When and where do you write, I wonder?

  2. how beautiful to be a witness to a soul's unfolding - and how comforting to know that we are not alone. You are able to express so beautifully what the heart feels as it searches to find its true reflection.
    mwah! wonderful! Kirsten