Wings of feathered sky

Sharing the sunrise
Worlds apart
Knowing they can never touch
Lost in each other’s flowing colors..

all this and that is simply an enchanting illusion
this brilliant immediacy
utterly obvious
naturally present
vast clear radiant
has no edges nor split nor division anywhere

only in this flowing description
rainbow painting on the river
whirlpools and eddies and waves surging and dissolving
longing to greet the ocean
there seems to be a story
and a story teller
but we are sumptuous fairy tales
shadows in the dark
light twirling in light
a wind ballet in wind
wet in wet the water sings itself
like this pearly iridescent shell...
the vastness calls you from the deep
calls you home
the home you never left

wind sings of love and love lost
and beauty pours from your eyes
or are they mine?
we are this broken hearted beauty
as real as tomorrow




inky black hides behind mountain moon
I bathe in its cool light
first finches sing in the plum tree
last crickets fade
time descends
thin pale dawn slides over the canyon
garbage truck roars down the street
sound cannot break this silence
nor dark this light
I am the sky dancing
night and day pulsing
heartbeat of solitude
this breath of seamless ease
embraces me
sings me




dissolved into midnight beauty
howling at the moon and hearing only the echo of my own voice
I need imaginary others to hear my song
without a song, there is no singer
a river needs its banks to flow....
midnight bathes in the sound of your heart weeping
love the heartbeat of life...
this pulsating aliveness looking and feeling like anything at all

I have no eyes no teeth no skin no smile no breath no song no heartbeat without your eyes to show me my reflection
I am loves reflection

the end of the need to capture the sun bathes me in sunlight's beauty and I fall softly softly into liquid sky
naked and unafraid that no one is wearing this nakedness



moon sails the sky
reflections appear and disappear
clouds dance with their shadows
in perfect precision
kissing at the top of the canyon
sky in sky

sky breathes into the drapery of night

spills down the canyon walls 

pools in echoes swirling at your feet 

there is a dance 

you know

deep within 

where sky kisses sky 

in a loop de loop lasso around the sun

through the clouds and rain 

in your heart

in your dreams

the night time dream is filled with sky

as are you 

there are no pieces of sky for you to eat one by one

nor a you to gather them 

it must swallow you whole 

and spit you out

for you to remember this seamless dance 

of light and dark

light swoons through light through this empty heart of moon glow

bleeding 

its heart beat is this song 

of words and silence

it fills these shoes with memories

dancing 

and names the birds 

yellow 

it is their morning song 

this brightening sky

and lingering night

her fingertips combed the edges of air

ragged twisted elegant wings 

her heart poised on the terrace of sky

waiting for lift off

the sumptuous feeling of the caress of wind

in-between her fingers and toes

gently gently piercing stabbing all ideas of solidity 

desert raven soars above 

cawing in a language which she begins to understand

the magic of flight 

has always been known 

merely ignored 

never forgotten

never not this ballet of wind and feathers 

and endless sky

Saying 

This is it

Implies that there is a that 

That is not it 

There is no that 

Nor this 

There is no field beyond right and wrong 

As beyond is made up 

There is no outside to what’s going on 

As outside and inside are made up 

Like all this and that 

You and me 

Light and dark 

Love and hate 

Knowing this feels like love 

Feeling the seamless ease of not believing in imaginary separation 

Yet playing in the fields of separation 

Where every blade of grass 

Every flower 

Every color 

Oh my!

The deep reds of trailing roses 

Golden sunrise and sunset 

Day and night soaring through me 

As I am the waltz of light and shadow 

I am the flowing 

The rippling reflection 

And the waters 

laughing 

Slow gentle rain eases 

shimmer of moon sails over the canyon wall

Cricket chorus fades 

deep hush before dawn 

morning finches sleep 

Arabesque of trees 

Catch the first light 

wind sweeps down the canyon 

Bringing the scent of high mountain rains 

I am the tree tops 

And the wind 

Dancing

moonlight floods the garden path

walking on clouds

footless

It seems she had always been searching for endless sky 

...forever homeless 

once she found a perfect skeleton of a hawks wing 

featherless 

and left it to the desert winds 

What good is a wing that can’t fly? 

Where could she take a treasure 

When there was no place 

No one 

She could trust?

She is the memory of the slanting sun on the red canyon walls 

a lost little girl 

Weeping 

Who found the beauty

Of flight

fragrance of memories lost 

flowers pressed between the pages of a book

slipping between the cracks in the sidewalk 

there is no one to gather them

or hold them

or let them loose

a life unbound 

unread

unsought

twirls down the canyon

an empty dress 

sky falls away from its tethers

roses fall away from their redness 

wetness falls away from the river 

weeping softly 

hours before dawn

a morning bird

time lost its skin

tattoos faded

no one left to wear the morning 

or hear the sunrise kiss the canyon 

slowly waltzing with the cottonwoods 

deer grazing on the long grasses 

rippling stream 

sun dancing 

memories sing an apparent songstress 

it's a love song of golden yellow falling 

drinking deeply 

this unabridged life

Mirror mirror on the wall... enchanted with your own reflection you seek to find the source, and there is none.  It's not that the writing is on the wall
It is it.  You are and always have been Bathing in your own natural brilliance.

All description paints the dream.
Amazing how naturally and spontaneously the brain seems to divide what's going on and then attempts to glue infinite subtance-less pieces into an imaginary whole
I love it.  When the flowing thought dream is not believed it is a most beautiful undermutter creating all and everything in this magnificent passion play. It's all in the tender sweetness of our eyes.



Tears melt rainbows into glass and shatter your dreams of finding future perfection.  piercing your tough exterior your own love heart magic eviscerates ravishes the very core of who you thought you were and renders you utterly bereft of hope and fear.  Life and wind and light soaring through you as you are skinless soaring in the warm evening breeze.  Waking amazed, standing utterly naked knowing there is not even nothing under your tender nakedness,  the universe flowing through you as you.  Sun slides across the sky from horizon to horizon loving the imaginary edges that touch the sky.

I never actually meet anyone.  I just fall in love, story-less.  No one is a stranger yet we can never know each other.  We exist only in the imaginary spaces in between.  On the surface we are lovers but really we are each other, there is no me nor you.

love is an idea just like you as there were never two to merge.  Yet the seamless ease of knowing and feeling always that there are no things nor holder of them is like love, but far beyond any idea we might have had about love, as there is no hope or fear.   This love is unowned.  your heart drops and love bleeds into the dream.  I am explodes into we are.  It was never your heart. it was never your love. we exist solely as this dream.  there is knowing that we are and all thingness is made up yet living and loving as the dream of separation.  sliding rainbows shimmer and are seen only in their own reflections.  we are an amalgam of learned shared words ideas and concepts. simply put, we are made up. It is in the imagined spaces between notes where the melody is born, a pure tone without overtones has no life no richness.  It takes the illusion of twoness to know there are no two.  Simply beyond logic or reason.  The sweep of dawn erases the shadows of apparent duality.  There is no place left to hide and no one left to hide.  Pure light of clarity pierces you deeply there is no turning back, there is no back.

How amazing that all perception arises evenly and equally without any effort.  this seamless beingness is always on yet rarely noticed, and all effort to recognize it seems to obscure it.

It is neither emptiness nor non-emptiness.  Nor both nor neither.  extending infinitely in every direction without direction or space subsuming all thingness indefinitely reaching everywhere and nowhere.  Subsuming all things it is beyond all extremes yet includes them.  A shoreless ocean waving crashing, a silent sonic boom.  It is beyond freedom nor non-freedom when there is no one left to be free.

Erasing all notions of this and that
Burning subsuming all ideas of twoness
Shadows are but memory stories reflections Ungraspable shimmering on mists of unobscured brilliance

Your eyes licked clean by your own light

It is simply unbelievable unutterably wondrous as all extremes fall away time dies, yet this and that still move
in this perfect stillness.

Mists like many colored droplets shower through you and you sink.  Your heart drops yet it still beats.
Passionate yet dispassionate.
Intimately played soundlessly felt and sung with utter abandon.

You are the dance it sings itself.
Marvelously so without any effort
Crystalline words appear and the two step begins.  Obviously apparent yet having no separate existence thingness blooms like a many petaled rainbow and simultaneously weeps infinitely varied shadows dancing on the edge where colors die and run down your daydream and dissolve in the night.  Dripping sensuousness into existence love radiates magnificently into itself.  Walking on the edge of the vastness ocean crashing on unseen shores
glimmering moonlight peeks in a sigh of a place we used to hide.

Ah! The touch of nothing the consuming union of space and light.  The play of echo and shadow.  The continuity of completeness.  Overwhelmed by the exquisite nature of all things and nothing at all.  Irrevocably sublime.  Naturally perfect.  Only ever none other than this as it seems to appear.  A cool breeze on a hot summers day.  Stretching your toes as you lie in your comfy bed.  All hearts desire answered.  No more questions.  Nothing to attain.  Nothing to fulfill.  Sublime quiescence.  Natural perfection.  The magnificence and mind blowing awe of.  Simply this.  Absolutely unavoidably
Yes

wings of feathered sky

brush flowers on the sidewalk

under the dancing trees

neath the wind song

arabesque of hush

pierces the day 

crochets the night

sumptuous edgeless three d light fabric

mirrored skirts twirling 

flowing reflections of reflections 

neither still nor moving

sky blooms 

finch filled morning 

sings 

love's memories echo on the canyon walls

spill into the shadows

and light the day

baseless shimmering reflections, brilliant beyond measure....

spinning turning dancing twisting twirling rushing roaring without movement or stillness.... 

you turn around to face yourself and find ...not even nothing...

....center less jewels... everywhere.... everyone you meet you fall in love... 

as through the reflection in their eyes you catch a glimpse of your own beauty ...and emptiness.... 

the feeling of solidity loses its grasp... on nothing.... even empty is too full a word to kiss the kiss of side-less glances... 

in the morning hush you hear your own heart beating and yet it is no longer yours... but you recognize your song in the finches and robins and wind soaring down the canyon... and you are the tree tops dancing and the wind and the feeling of seamless ease that has erased the edges between inside and outside that never were.... 

it was only a dream within the dream that prevented you from seeing that you are the dream... full and complete ... never broken ...yet empty... 

even love, that one thing you held out your heart for... dies.... 

this feeling cannot be captured with the razor of thought or words or concepts, ever intimate and infinite and uncaptureable, it is beauteous beyond measure or song

I often call this love yet it is beyond any ideas I had of love before... it is leaves dancing... walking through the light and shadow magic carpet flowing across the sidewalk... tapestries of space weaving and unweaving themselves with infinite color and no color at all... symphonies of surround sound beating your heart and the rush and tympani of the canyon night....

it is a wind ballet swirling through a pirouette of wonder.... in you as you through you.... and yet there is a sublime emptiness which no one left or entered... 

so vast that even the furthest reaches of space can never fill it as it has no edges... nor center.... 

and you find yourself in the center, still dancing, you are the dance and the dancer yet the dance floor has fallen away... 

you are breathless yet you are breath itself

I love these songs that can evoke this feeling of sumptuous lostness... 

these ambiguous words which can leave the mind hanging... 

skip it out of the grooves of assumed knowing... 

and an unknowable music can be heard... in the distance... and from inside... 

like songs you heard before you could listen... melancholy and joy combined... 

so unbearably beautiful tears flow and flow and you are the wetness and the saltiness as you slide into the sea of dreams you never left...

searching for the meaning of yellow

blossoms into a song without end

or beginning

that sings her

memories of love weave traceries of sky 

words sketch a silhouette 

the center is empty

and flows outside of the lines 

edges extend without end 

and cannot be found 

cloud flowers weep

as they dissolve into their own reflection 

what is yellow?

what is love?

where does it end  

and this poem begin? 

where are my lines 

when these lines sing me?

Where never and forever crash into each other these daylight dreams waltz in rhythmless slumber.  Life whispers uncountable melodies where the last note seems to be always missing and creates a feeling of lack, of just missing the right key that would resolve the questionless questions that pirouette into a spinning tale of you and next.

Looking for wings to enfold you and stretch across the starry skies with lullabies to hold you in the grasp of love's embrace kept them folded into your next breath your next heartbeat your next step that never occurred.  What if this was truly it and no prince or princess or eternal now would save you from a kiss-less kiss?

Searching for that other half kept you feeling strangled yet you had no choice but to swoon in love's swan song creating ripples that mesmerized your fear of dying into vague fairy tales that now
You cannot ignore.

What if this sparkling life just as it seems to appear really is all there is?  Will you fly into a gazillion pieces if you stop trying to relax?  Deaths shadow always at your bow still the sun slides across your tears as you water the ocean of love.  Showers of moon light beckon your nakedness to dance, and you find the ship you thought you were sailing has always sailed itself in the sea of dreams where even love lost its shadow in the murmurings of all your dreams.  Aglow with wonder knowing there is no one under your mirrored glance of awe, still the dance of rippling tides seems to keep your heartbeat thumping in the rhythm of the night.



Knowing there are no things to fall....
No reference points anywhere or nowhere. You exist only as an imaginary reference point around which the rest of the dream swirls...

It feels like an infinitely faceted center-less jewel feeling everyone everything deeply. Life spinning it's cats cradle with fingers of emptiness catching nothing and the sparkling jewels is the spinning itself.
You exist only as a dream character in time. This is as real as it gets. As imaginary characters, as conceptual beings, we can only know or see the conceptual or worded world of separation. Yet it can be intuited always that we are and all thingness is made up.

Life is not eternal as eternal is a long time and there is none. Have you ever found the beginning and end to a moment? Are there separate moments?
Is there a you separate from the ever emerging ever blooming ever wilting momentary?
Or separate from this obvious brilliant immediacy that disappears as soon as it seems to arise?

Goin' dooooooown the faceless highway, climbing up the river of tears.  How many paths did I follow trying to feel my way through the endless cloud covered night.  Longing to touch the great unknown, my heart shattered into shards that pierced all the hopes and fears and dreams that I was.  I was ground into powdered tears that showered glittering stardust through a mirror brightly as I crashed into and through my own brokenness.  Infinite pieces of nothing flew forever and never touched the end of the sky.

The essence of life cannot be stopped or grasped with words.  Trying to lasso a rainbow or hold sunlight in your hand, run your tender fingers through a kitten's fur in a picture or kiss a lovers reflection in your eyes.  Yet words fly through your window sometimes, and as they break the pain and your heart wide open, you realize you are the dragons fiery breath as it burns you and the golden treasure you longed for.  

It was your own arrow you shot, long ago, before you slipped into your suit of armor made of all those ideas of what life should be like, like a straight jacket, as you hid in secret places where love could not touch.  Your heart falls apart and the wind blows it away.  All the seems that held you together fold into themselves and erupt, and a river of tears flows through you and washes away the lines.  

The storm clouds part and the vastness is seen.  Light floods your being as you throw away your umbrella.  It never could stop the rain or prevent you from drowning in your tears.  Mist clings to the rocky mountain tops and swirls through space blurring the edges of where you thought you were as there is no concern for where you believed you must go.  It's like a welcome home, I love you, sliding into your own warmth that you had never left, the all encompassing embrace of this utter intimacy of yourself.   

Your face is etched with smiles they are rivers for tears.  You cannot think of anything that needs adornment, fallen inbetween the cracks, enchanted with unlined edgelessness.  

No one can color between nonexistent lines with crayons of fixed hue, morning is a magical brush sweeping across the canyon.  Sky dresses itself in an ever changing miracle and this sweet song of love paints your beautiful reflection in my eyes.