Whirlpools of Moon

Looking for emptiness in the moonlight
You find only buckets of echoes
Under the cottonwoods
Wind rustles the shadows

In the darkest night your heart is pierced with brightness
Blood streams from that thorny kiss and you bleed into everywhere and no where

Release of what never was splashes like whiskered knives slashing your dreams of tomorrow
Deep down you've always known this
It has haunted you like a kiss in the night
As you stare into the fire of your own demise It pushes you
It is your own love calling you home

Time flows through you like an empty tide and leaves the memory of love dissipating into a sea of dreams.  All your beautiful footprints wash away in the waves... they were never going anywhere anyway.

Tongue lips teeth hearts gut
Mountain night
Crickets sing
Love sings
But only we know the words

We have never been anything other than these smiles these tears these thoughts of moonlight raining
Sending love letters to ourselves caught in whirlpools of moon
For a brief moment
We flow through each other




Shadows swirl from the tree tops
Spilling onto these pages
Saturating these words
That bleed onto the sidewalk
Pooling in echoes of their own reflection.

Love sings it’s bittersweet song
In waves of sorrow and joy
The loss of tomorrow
Catapulted you over the rainbow
Until all was treasure
Your beautiful shining tenderness

Whose words were pressed between the pages of your heart
Not yours or mine
When the binding of belief unraveled
Autumn leaves soaring
Clear blue sky
Self illumined wonder

I can hear you singing softly
In the morning birdsong
In the afternoon winds that caress my face
In the colors of the end of day
That no one won
In the midnight hush
That led nowhere 

Ancient patterns in a threadbare carpet
Echo and hum yet cannot be traced
Sunlight shifts across the fibers
Attention moves and rests
Inside and outside have merged
Plum blossoms pirouette down the street
Wind breathes me
Silence of unknowing
Sings throughout the day
A gentle wonder
Dances

Hope and fear 

The guard dogs of the heart

Rip you to shreds as you fall through 

The mirror of who you were crashes into its own reflection.

Leaves no one standing 

Blood pools in concert with its own redness

Astounded at the fluidity 

That has no direction 

Wet in wet in wet in wet 

This and that dancing 

Splashing in waves of pure iridescence.

Edges within edgelessness 

Form within formlessness 

Color and light illuminating a shadow that no one wore...

No ones hands were lost or found 

Yet they seem to play the game

Casting shadows 

Skipping stones 

Across the ripple-less sea

You may find that the love you longed for and yet feared has turned around and kissed you full on the mouth. Reached down into the deep dark secret corners of your being that you did not know existed and pierced you and burnt you and consumed you. All that you thought you knew of yourself and your world unravel into tattered clouds raining endless tears washing through your delicate wetness. You may spin for awhile looking for a familiar face, a loving embrace, but you cannot find anything or anyone who will stop this ravishing pain, no idea or hope or dream will fill this astounding utter blankness.

The searching for handholds may stop and you will recognize everyone as your familiar face, and all and everything is your infinite intimate embrace. There are no reference points and no place to land as everywhere is home, yet no one lives there. Such a marvelous unknowing when there is no one to know or not know, no one to be confused or non confused, no one to be free or bound, no one to awaken or stay fast asleep. Gazing out is gazing in when there is no need to grasp life as it swims through you as you. Such unspeakable beauty in simply life as it seems to appear. This seamless ease this sublime awe this marvelous bittersweet aloneness of no one to kiss.



you reach a point where you have read all you can read where every hand you've held starts to dissolve and every bright promise of a future starts to fade. you begin to fall into this sinking feeling that there's nothing else than this… ever gasping for breath you turn around thinking maybe you could go back to another time when you believed all the lies but there's nothing there you can't even find your shadow or your footsteps.


You are the looking for certitude, the fear of unknowing, the fear of disappearing in this love dance with which you long to merge. You cannot merge with it as you are it. You have never been separate from what’s going on, this beautiful flow of life, this fleeting wind ballet that seems to embrace you and push and pull you along.

You are the pushing and pulling, the trying to hold it to capture it to make permanent this magic that you sense lies behind your shadow. But there is nothing painting your shadow, no one fills your shoes and sweeps you across the dance floor. There is no floor to stand on to dance on to lie upon when you die.

You are the prism between the imaginary known and the unknowable pouring color and light into the dream. Flooding the pages of your story with love and beauty that disappear the moment these words paint you. Just like this, as it has always been yet never was nor ever will be, you are this ever emerging ever wilting blooming flower of life feeling it’s own tender vibrant aliveness through the symphony of perception and its inseparable recognition.

Painted with watercolor tears in the river of song, written with sky in sky, with your very breath and heartbeat life sings you as you sing these very words within which you emerge.




Death gives life its sparkle.  Concrete cracks and wood weathers and rots and flowers wilt,  even plastic flowers fade.  The ever blooming ever wilting edgeless momentary is all we can know and we are not separate from it.

There is no source nor anyone dancing.
This is a centerless side less seamless all encompassing dance.
Without beginning or ending yet always beginning and always ending. There are no things to be grasped and no one grasping.

This fluidity this impermanence may be frightening.  Yet you know deep down that this is so.  This has been following you around like a hungry dog since the day you learned to write your name, the day you learned that you would die.  You cannot turn around and face it as you are it.  it is truly your own love that will ravish you and eviscerate all ideas of permanence and certitude.

Beliefs are like life in a strongbox. No light can enter when they’ve painted the window of unknowing shut.
How long are you going to pretend that you will never die?
How long are you going to pretend that there is a God or consciousness or some loving force looking out for you?  
How long are you going to pretend that you are on a road to a place of perfect love and peace and bliss where no one is angry and everyone loves each other forever?

There is no place to rest there are no handholds you are falling and have been since the day you were born.  When the whoosh falls into and through the whoosh, when never and forever collide.  When you realize that this is it just as it seems to appear, that there is no other better for or next.  That there are no separate things or moments to be perfect or non-perfect.

Your heart drops and all that love that you were terrified to feel for fear that you might lose it floods your being.  This knowing feeling that you are not separate from life what ever it looks or feels like, there is a simple joy and ease and quiescence that is undeniably the peace the love you have always sought and you know that it has always been this way. You just never noticed.

Weaving echoes as they sing themselves and untie the sky, sky unweaves blue from blue from blue from blue...

It is only in this dance that leaves no footprints where words can soar through the shallows and dive into unfathomable depths.  They swallow the sun and submerge your heart in the wetness that leaves a landscape of tattered rainbows.  Scattered treasure flows into itself and recognizes its own magic. 

The timbre of life, the sweetness of sweet is this very aliveness... so utterly obvious but missed when imaginary separation is believed in.

Yet when were you ever separate from perception? From a tear sliding down your tender cheek or the feeling of the warm summer wind that dries it?

In the shade, in the shadows, love lies nestled underneath the fallen leaves.

In the garden midnight dances and you follow your footsteps into the fecundity of life.  

Such brilliance cannot be missed 

Or kissed 

Light falls through light and explodes into this very love song.