9 – Long to Be

I Long to Be
Lost as a tree
Lost as a tree in the forest

Lost to myself
Shrouded by leaves
Held in the shadows of evening

Letting go of my hold
Hold on this heart
Hold on this heart made of stone

I long to be
Tall as these trees
Tall as the trees in the forest

At home with myself
Covered in leaves
Leaves as bright as the sunset

Learning to hold
Hold other hearts
Hold them safe in this forest

8 – Tears of Sparrows

Tears of Sparrows

Rain dances in morning’s light
Drops as small as the tears of sparrows
Rain drops
Small as your own tears
Squeeze out at the corner of your eye
As you squint to see
Not knowing which vision of life
You wish to believe

One tear like a raindrop rolls
Down your arid cheek
You wandered this life in a desert
Dry winds only to mark your face
Trace your journey
This moment you consider
Letting the tears fall like rain
On the chance
That life will blossom on your cheek
Planted, the long awaited kiss

These tears if you let them
Scratch rivulets on parched ground
Eroding old soils
Making its own lines
On the landscape of your face
Combining both paths of sadness, release
Water seeks water
Raindrops seek teardrops
Together, they fall to the ground
Earth gives one grain
One grain to a tear
To tears that will turn to the rivers
Rivers to move mountains
On their way to the shore
Where the sea swallows mountains
Would you let teardrop fall
If you believed you could move mountains?
Believed you could use them to join with the sea?
Would you notice the rain then, if you were the sea
Could you spread yourself out as wide as the sea
Could you feel the soft drops, the tears of the sparrows
Receiving them all as they joined with the sea?

7 – The Boy On The Dock

EM_Jacket_Front2DETAIL

Note:  This poem is dedicated to all children and the children within the rest of us.
Today, September 7, is  “End Malaria Day”… a day dedicated to eradication of Malaria, a deadly mosquito borne disease that kills one child on the planet every 45 seconds.
– It will take you less than 45 seconds to read this poem – Boy On The Dock
– It will take you less than a minute to read Seth’s Blog today… click link, please read!
– It will take you less than a minute to order the FAB! book (assuming you have your Amazon account set up) he refers to (Total proceeds to save two lives)
– It will take you less than a minute to pass along his blog, or the video or the message or this poem and inspire two more lives to take action.

The Boy On The Dock

The boy on the dock
Only knows Summer
While I well acquainted
Each ending of Summer

Knows only the mysteries
Miracles of this place
While I have given over
To answers and predictions

Knows only bedtime and stories
Bring an end to the day
While I rub up against
End of days, lean on old stories to tell

The water speaks to him
I can not hear
In a language all his own
One I have forgotten

My pen goes silent on paper
Hand poised, motionless
Voice inside inaudible
Silence overtaken by shouting
From the boy on the dock

6 – Driving in Rain

Surprised it was tricky
Being left with some part
Of something that was no thing
A picture of once was
Like driving in rain

We were dividing
Receiving fair shares
Didn’t see, didn’t hear
Cloaks torn to pieces
Skin from the game

Now feeling the shreds
These separated things
Have sharp fibers, rough edges
No handles to hold
Weight of the past

Why are they sticky
And cling to the walls
Have learned how to follow
Never get lost
Fingerprints cover the place

I was hoping for slippery
Simplicity with flow
Ease of coming and easy to go
Hasn’t turned out that way
Marked black and some blue from holding so tight

Foolish in wanting, in wanting
Misunderstandings of life
The now is for nothing
Accept letting go
Desire for the simple
Like driving in rain

5 – Ruth’s Bell

Note: This poem is dedicated to Ruth Denison.  I invite you to learn more about her thru these links.  She has been traveling from her center, Dhamma Dena, in the high desert of California to Insight Meditation Society in central Mass for 40 years to teach a retreat that begins on Labor Day.  This is and has been the last year…

RUTH’S BELL

This Bell, Ruth’s Bell, is ringing
For you and I
To come
To the meditation hall
Now

Mindfully
Or mindlessly
It is time
For us to go
For all things to go

The bell ringer touches
The brass bell
With the gong
In awareness
Or not…

Mindfully
Or mindlessly
It is time
For us to go
For all things to go

You and I
Must now walk worn stone paths
One foot in front of the other
Repeating it
Until we arrive

Mindfully
Or mindlessly
It is time
For us to go
For all things to go

One last time at 89
She speaks to us
Forty years she has come here
Offering only awareness
And you?

Mindfully
Or mindlessly
It is time
For us to go
For all things to go

The Lioness now in Winter
Strong in all Seasons
She is unaverse
To the coming
Cold darkness

Mindfully
Or mindlessly
It is time
For us to go
For all things to go

A fierce protector
Of the Dharma
She roars with conviction
Comes fanged with insight
Wears a mane of time tested truths

Mindfully
Or mindlessly
It is time
For us to go
For all things to go

A nurturing mother
To young lion cubs
Now come to her side
For tender instruction
This one last time

Mindfully
Or mindlessly
It is time
For us to go
For all things to go

4 – Harvests of Autumn

The Harvests of Autumn
Start with September’s sad apples
The trees are now weary
From months in gestation
Their branches like bellies
Hang swollen and low
Not able to pick themselves
Up any longer
They wait for delivery
Their moment of grace

While there for the blossoms
And the time of conception
You missed their long season
Went elsewhere to play
But you’ll arrive eager for delivery
Fruit from their birthing held in your hands
And a mouth full of something
That you’d like to say

3 – Here Again

Here Again
This place, these people
Why did I return?
Again
To a page already colored
No matter how poorly
By my experiences
Then
No matter how vaguely recalled
Or inadequately lived
Then

But I am here again
Left to my own devices
But I have no directions or answers
Only questions and broken devices

What about now?
What about this time…
This day and weekend
This morning, this hour
What about this moment?
How can I touch it and touch you
More lightly
Allow it to be more real
Have myself be more present in it
And live it like new
Not life reviewed
Not grasping and held onto
Not granite to be cleft in two

But I am here again
Left to my own devices
But I have no directions or answers
Only questions and broken devices

I am in love
With my thoughts
That poor compass of self
From their sharp, jagged continual judgments
That only head south
To the soft-spoken, wistful wishes and wants
That swing wildly as if I had no True North
I follow them along
Like Hansel and Gretel
With no crumbs for a trail
Providing only convincing arrogance
They know where they are headed
Now I have ended up
Deep in the forest of uncertainty
Of who I am and
Where I am going

But I am here again
Left to my own devices
But I have no directions or answers
Only questions and broken devices