where something and nothing fall through each other...
and place and placelessness lose their meaning...
and meaning and non meaning fall apart...
and these words that type themselves lose themselves on an endless screen...
that was covered with so much ink she could not see the light.....
one tear spilled onto the pages of her story and the words began to run...
and beautiful shapes and colors were seen to be part of the river that was neither moving nor non moving...
yet she was moved at the all encompassing wondrousness...
and realized she was the river weeping at its own beauty
can we hear sounds without noticing the words?
colors without images?
is there life without lines?
if there is we cannot know it
yet line-less-ness can be intuited and felt
saturating imaginary edges
sound is a word
silence is a word
love is a word
I hear you talking and cannot hear the words
I fall into and through your edgeless beauty
not caring what your story is
or mine
is the story of love
speechless I sing
of morning and night and the death of time
of love pouring soundlessly through the window
that was never open or shut
of crashing through a mirror that has no sides
or middle
of lips meeting in this kiss
where no one can ever touch
of lips that have no words
yet sing of wordlessness
of songs that cannot be heard or sung
or remembered
or forgotten
or lost
there is no emptiness
nor form
no one to wear these shoes
nor dance
no one to cross the shoreless ocean
no one to arrive
no one is asleep
no one awakens
this morning I sit with my laptop
and listen to the first finches
and the doves on the telephone wires
vowels slide through my mouth
an ocean roars
consonants are the rhythm
the suck and pull of tides
I walked in moonlight last night
through the hush
that permeates the day
when there is no one listening
there is no song
and no singer
no lines to shimmer in the wind
and spill out and over and through themselves
into this very heartbeat
this very breath
these very words
that sing me
she ironed flowers by moonlight and buried them in the garden
there was no time to press them in books
thinking of her children eating peaches in the summer sun
she would never see the delicate buds of spring
and who could she talk to about the death of days and nights
and the end of her poem?
and words pour through me and sing the canyon and all the dancers into this waltz of light and dark and cool breezes and long summer nights...
and love blossoms and falls with every breath....
and some hear their heart song in these words that can never hold the magic of this simple feeling of all feeling that no one holds...
songs brush the morning onto the river of song...
and reflect your beautiful face as it sees that it is only a reflection....
and the canyon and all the dancers, cottonwood trees and pinyon jays squawking...
simply an illusion of words...
cloud flowers flowing into and through each other
wind leaves no path
a lover passes and leaves no footprint
simply the memory of a kiss
that had no sides
dissolving into the sunset
what words suggest this all pervading silence which is not the absence of words or thought?
perhaps sound that tosses all sounds out the window of the car on a midnight road, wind streaming...
crickets singing....
headlights vainly lighting a path though the impenetrable dark...
a deer, freezes...
kissed by a pale dawn
silhouettes of tree tops dance in the wind
this hush before the day
is never not felt
it was never erased nor written
yet it sings itself
like this
and where are you in this lovers kiss?
when light flows into and through itself
when space pours into space
when meaning and non meaning leave no fingerprints
on the mirror you fell through and found no sides nor middle
your own reflection can't kiss itself
and memories of echoes swirl in whirlpool'd beauty
in this river which is neither moving nor standing still
songs sing me and all this
how beautiful to watch my lines paint themselves
and simultaneously disappear
Am I old
Am I young
A flowing dreamscape
Painted with water color tears
Wet in wet in wet in wet
Drops of reflected light
Shimmering
Echoes of days and nights
Gathering in whirlpools of moon
Time and meaning died
When there was no one to circle the sun
Life is rich and full beyond measure
This incessant streaming momentary
Will stop
yet there is no care here
Thoughts of tomorrow have not ended
It’s simply that there is no one reading them
They are no more meaningful than the gentle morning wind breathing in the trees...
Yes I know this seamlessness of which I sing
This all pervading silence
This hush of no tomorrow
This sublime unknowing
That there are no things to know
And no one to gather them
Cannot be shared
Yet I sing
And some hear their heart song in these words that were never mine
And we dance and dance in this canyon of love
They may feel it for
Just
A
Brief
Moment
In love as love through love
This ecstatic love ballet of one of two of many of none
Yet they will return to the anguish of belief in the dream world
And I will continue to sing
Just
Like
This
she was an echo
in an sea of words
ripping off their skins
she held the vowels in her mouth
the juiciness of the flowing momentary
overflowed
surfing the waves
of light and dark
she plunged into the ocean of sound
and sang
silence breathes these words
saturates this song
is this penetrating
brilliance
super saturated with emptiness
edgeless-ness cannot be filled
or emptied
fingers rest lightly on the keyboard
windows open to the night
morning sleeps
canyon breeze stirs the garden
I can hear the big mulberry
dance
I feel her long branches caress the sky
hot tea sits on the table
with the open book
that no one read
listening to the sound of words
savoring the the skin and flesh
of morning
the neighbors sprinklers
tires on the road through the puddles
wind billowing the trees
softness of my fingers sliding
the click of the keyboard
my breath my heartbeat
the awaiting of birdsong
in the hush of dark
this song of life singing itself
closer than the tongue in my mouth
the taste of taste
I am the words
that taste the morning
soundlessness on the tip of my tongue
waltzing in the summer sun
love lost her shadow
drowning in diamond tears
light in light
love in love
pierced my own brilliance
shattered the sky
daggers
my heart
was never mine
what made me weep a lifetime of tears
what poured this empty shadow
into a river of shimmering echoes
what left no footprints
in the wind and sand and sky
what had an empty hand
that dissolved
looking for my tale
a lifetime of searching for love
I found only a center less spinning
of words
reflecting words
watercolor wash
of blues and grays
slid down the window of sky
pooled on the sidewalk
gathered in the shadows
pulled this empty heart
into the river of tears
my silhouette drifts and falls
hovers under wings of sky
waltzes with the moons reflection
slowly slowly
softly softly
kisses its own echo
rising over the canyon
I hear your song
it is the summer breeze
towering mountains
shimmering waters
dissolving light in light
shadows speak my name
I wept and wept to find
your voice was my own
and drowned in the river I had never left
shooting stars light your eyes and burn your skin
afterimages of words cast light and shadow into endless sky
letters fill and empty you
you can hear your dreams ripping
feel love burning
traceries of poems bloom and wither
tides bring in garlands of skulls
and marigolds
suck out the marrow of your heart
eat the tender delicate parts of you
that you never noticed before
under all that armor
of fear
and hope
there is a nakedness
that no one wears
and place and placelessness lose their meaning...
and meaning and non meaning fall apart...
and these words that type themselves lose themselves on an endless screen...
that was covered with so much ink she could not see the light.....
one tear spilled onto the pages of her story and the words began to run...
and beautiful shapes and colors were seen to be part of the river that was neither moving nor non moving...
yet she was moved at the all encompassing wondrousness...
and realized she was the river weeping at its own beauty
can we hear sounds without noticing the words?
colors without images?
is there life without lines?
if there is we cannot know it
yet line-less-ness can be intuited and felt
saturating imaginary edges
sound is a word
silence is a word
love is a word
I hear you talking and cannot hear the words
I fall into and through your edgeless beauty
not caring what your story is
or mine
is the story of love
speechless I sing
of morning and night and the death of time
of love pouring soundlessly through the window
that was never open or shut
of crashing through a mirror that has no sides
or middle
of lips meeting in this kiss
where no one can ever touch
of lips that have no words
yet sing of wordlessness
of songs that cannot be heard or sung
or remembered
or forgotten
or lost
there is no emptiness
nor form
no one to wear these shoes
nor dance
no one to cross the shoreless ocean
no one to arrive
no one is asleep
no one awakens
this morning I sit with my laptop
and listen to the first finches
and the doves on the telephone wires
vowels slide through my mouth
an ocean roars
consonants are the rhythm
the suck and pull of tides
I walked in moonlight last night
through the hush
that permeates the day
when there is no one listening
there is no song
and no singer
no lines to shimmer in the wind
and spill out and over and through themselves
into this very heartbeat
this very breath
these very words
that sing me
she ironed flowers by moonlight and buried them in the garden
there was no time to press them in books
thinking of her children eating peaches in the summer sun
she would never see the delicate buds of spring
and who could she talk to about the death of days and nights
and the end of her poem?
and words pour through me and sing the canyon and all the dancers into this waltz of light and dark and cool breezes and long summer nights...
and love blossoms and falls with every breath....
and some hear their heart song in these words that can never hold the magic of this simple feeling of all feeling that no one holds...
songs brush the morning onto the river of song...
and reflect your beautiful face as it sees that it is only a reflection....
and the canyon and all the dancers, cottonwood trees and pinyon jays squawking...
simply an illusion of words...
cloud flowers flowing into and through each other
wind leaves no path
a lover passes and leaves no footprint
simply the memory of a kiss
that had no sides
dissolving into the sunset
what words suggest this all pervading silence which is not the absence of words or thought?
perhaps sound that tosses all sounds out the window of the car on a midnight road, wind streaming...
crickets singing....
headlights vainly lighting a path though the impenetrable dark...
a deer, freezes...
kissed by a pale dawn
silhouettes of tree tops dance in the wind
this hush before the day
is never not felt
it was never erased nor written
yet it sings itself
like this
and where are you in this lovers kiss?
when light flows into and through itself
when space pours into space
when meaning and non meaning leave no fingerprints
on the mirror you fell through and found no sides nor middle
your own reflection can't kiss itself
and memories of echoes swirl in whirlpool'd beauty
in this river which is neither moving nor standing still
songs sing me and all this
how beautiful to watch my lines paint themselves
and simultaneously disappear
Am I old
Am I young
A flowing dreamscape
Painted with water color tears
Wet in wet in wet in wet
Drops of reflected light
Shimmering
Echoes of days and nights
Gathering in whirlpools of moon
Time and meaning died
When there was no one to circle the sun
Life is rich and full beyond measure
This incessant streaming momentary
Will stop
yet there is no care here
Thoughts of tomorrow have not ended
It’s simply that there is no one reading them
They are no more meaningful than the gentle morning wind breathing in the trees...
Yes I know this seamlessness of which I sing
This all pervading silence
This hush of no tomorrow
This sublime unknowing
That there are no things to know
And no one to gather them
Cannot be shared
Yet I sing
And some hear their heart song in these words that were never mine
And we dance and dance in this canyon of love
They may feel it for
Just
A
Brief
Moment
In love as love through love
This ecstatic love ballet of one of two of many of none
Yet they will return to the anguish of belief in the dream world
And I will continue to sing
Just
Like
This
she was an echo
in an sea of words
ripping off their skins
she held the vowels in her mouth
the juiciness of the flowing momentary
overflowed
surfing the waves
of light and dark
she plunged into the ocean of sound
and sang
silence breathes these words
saturates this song
is this penetrating
brilliance
super saturated with emptiness
edgeless-ness cannot be filled
or emptied
fingers rest lightly on the keyboard
windows open to the night
morning sleeps
canyon breeze stirs the garden
I can hear the big mulberry
dance
I feel her long branches caress the sky
hot tea sits on the table
with the open book
that no one read
listening to the sound of words
savoring the the skin and flesh
of morning
the neighbors sprinklers
tires on the road through the puddles
wind billowing the trees
softness of my fingers sliding
the click of the keyboard
my breath my heartbeat
the awaiting of birdsong
in the hush of dark
this song of life singing itself
closer than the tongue in my mouth
the taste of taste
I am the words
that taste the morning
soundlessness on the tip of my tongue
waltzing in the summer sun
love lost her shadow
drowning in diamond tears
light in light
love in love
pierced my own brilliance
shattered the sky
daggers
my heart
was never mine
what made me weep a lifetime of tears
what poured this empty shadow
into a river of shimmering echoes
what left no footprints
in the wind and sand and sky
what had an empty hand
that dissolved
looking for my tale
a lifetime of searching for love
I found only a center less spinning
of words
reflecting words
watercolor wash
of blues and grays
slid down the window of sky
pooled on the sidewalk
gathered in the shadows
pulled this empty heart
into the river of tears
my silhouette drifts and falls
hovers under wings of sky
waltzes with the moons reflection
slowly slowly
softly softly
kisses its own echo
rising over the canyon
I hear your song
it is the summer breeze
towering mountains
shimmering waters
dissolving light in light
shadows speak my name
I wept and wept to find
your voice was my own
and drowned in the river I had never left
shooting stars light your eyes and burn your skin
afterimages of words cast light and shadow into endless sky
letters fill and empty you
you can hear your dreams ripping
feel love burning
traceries of poems bloom and wither
tides bring in garlands of skulls
and marigolds
suck out the marrow of your heart
eat the tender delicate parts of you
that you never noticed before
under all that armor
of fear
and hope
there is a nakedness
that no one wears
and the threads can never touch.... yet this flowing tapestry of light and shadow and color.... I walk in utter amazement as this wonder is me sings me dances me twirls me down the grand canyon of love....
this is all we have this is all we are... this love... this song that sings me is a love song
tears .... shimmering delicate rainbow reflections I see in everyones eyes... this beautiful ache of love and love lost...
wind dancing down the streets into the ocean
dove swoons through her shadow
carries the morning in her wings
sunlight waltzes with this leaf and wind dance
feathered sky
pausing on the high wire
she sings the song of my childhood
folding into my heart
a wistful melancholy
walking with my family
darkening summer streets
mother and brother dead now
father old
that wondrous ache I knew as a child
and savored
this precious life
no one can capture
love
no one can hold
this sublime ache of our aliveness
no one wears
is the song of emptiness
bursting
the silence no one can sing
is everyones song
so exquisitely expressed...
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