ocean paints its colors with sky reflection
I have no colors without you
there is not even nakedness
or a vacant silhouette
to fill in with cut out clothes and a face from a magazine
no empty page where you can write a story
of a girl
a woman
a songster
a lover of love
a lover of all that seems to appear
a lover falling in love with everyone I see....
....I seem to appear in the loving of you
love writes my lines
and erases me
thought is memory's paintbrush
anointing my eyes with infinite shades of summer
and tears to wash the colors into my heart
all colors paint this love
that cannot be held
or painted
all things fall through it
and are held in it
photos sing without words or music
memory paints the colors of morning
how would you know a flower without memory
what is a flower but memory
blossoming
and wilting
waterfalls of tears wash away the rainbows of the past
and the colors of an imaginary future
there is no actual knowing of flowers
or beauty
or love
perhaps that is why we love them so
awakening is utter intimacy
the slash of reds when my heart was eviscerated
the deep greeny blues when I was drowned
the clear transparency of sky
when I fell through my reflection
and the utter absence of light
when there was no one on the other side
I am the low howl of moon rushing across the desert sky
falling into a mirage of love
pools of echoes paint the colors of water
no one can grasp
you cannot hold moonlight yet you love it so
love's delicate petals cannot be grasped
for they are crushed
into memory of moon
I am a flowing portrait of memory
that no one ever posed for
no hand or camera created it
there are no lines to erase
or fill in with color
I am less substantial than the song that sings me
sky soars through sky
no need of wings
or feathers
or skin
I am a river of reflections
...flowing echoes of faces
of tears
and laughter
and wide eyed wonder
there is no source
nor end...
I dance with my shadow
on red canyon walls
there is no original dancer
only this dream ballet of light and shadow
that no one dreams
I am the singing of infinite fairy tales of wonder
a liquid mirror of reflections
of you and you and you and you...
you are not
I am not
love
is
not
and yet....
there is a dance of lovers
no one leads
no one follows
there is no before
or after
no steps to take
no where to go
in this canyon of echoes
singing you
singing me
singing
love
I can feel the curtains blowing in the room next door
I can feel the shadows blooming
I can feel the tree tops dancing
I can feel your heart breaking
for it is mine
it is ours
it is us
for a while the rhythm of the night
accompanies the first robin
a sigh
a pause
the hush before dawn....
as the crickets hide with the darkness under the roses
this silence cannot be extinguished
it is the fire that consumes us
this love without edges
pierces our hearts
and skins us alive
and we find nothing underneath the skin
the flesh and bones and blood never contained a person
there was no skin
to shred
there never was a mountain
to climb
the shoes were always empty
they never were....
simultaneously and inseparably without beginning or end
without oneness or twoness
we dance in love as love through love...
the dance of nothing at all is supersaturated with love... always the first and last kiss...
there are no two in emptiness
no two in love
I am the loving of you...
yet there is no one here
nor there
there is no here
nor there
nor In-between
yet
this is where we dance
and fall in love
and you are a beautiful love song that sings my heart into an ecstatic dance where dancers seem to appear and dissolve with every breath every note every sound every pause every word singing the infinite names of love....
we are the wings of love's all consuming embrace that erased us, and formed us into an unimaginably wondrous love song
never heard nor not heard
utterly apparent but never grasped...
dancing without time or space or any thing
or any one
dancing......
I am the loving of you.... together we are this dance of sublime liquidity, a water ballet of colored winds.... waterfalls of grace tumbling through an atemporal waltz of never and forever....
we exist only in between the remembering and forgetting...
in between the in between is a placeless place where love falls in love with her own echo and cannot find and cannot lose her place in this dance without dancers...
in this love without lovers
or love....
the is the dream of love, of lovers, of infinite rainbows bursting into a song that no one can hear or remember or forget yet all can feel it...
this is the magic they seek but cannot find, as we are this love without love...
we are this dance without dancers....
we have no words yet find our mouths... our breath... our lips our skin our tongues our hearts singing together....
in a language foreign and familiar
with vowels round and full and the staccato of consonants.... like the trees singing in the autumn winds.... or the dog barking in the distance.... and the tires on the road.... a corny country love song barely heard caught in the canyon winds and delivered straight to a heart that no one owns....
as our hearts have exploded into love's heart magic....
just like this we are a love song.... unabashedly human.... unabashedly in love with all and everything... and nothing at all.......
all are sublimely innocent.... choice-less imaginary personas.... masks without a head or face....
no one is wearing the character or playing a part...
we are all a flowing thought stream, which seems to swirl and flow yet never moves nor is not moving....
there is no center to the swirling... no beginning nor end nor middle
no one to hold on
or let go...
I feel like hugging every one I meet and telling them how beautiful they are and that I love them, but I don’t, as this can easily be misunderstood....
as I am also a beautifully innocent imaginary lover dancing down lovers lane...
painted by the perfume of sunset
and the wash of darkness....
knowing and feeling there is no other better more or next
this embrace of love's infinite intimacy longs to be shared
but it cannot
and I weep
and muddle along
looking for ways to say, 'I love you'
because I do
memory soars
through summer skies
ocean song
has no beginning nor end
you will never hear
any words that will fill you
or empty you
as you are nothing more or less than words
this thought stream that paints your world
spins a flowing web of morning
and billowy white flowers of night
wilting
eons of dreams
acres of tears
we are the pages of memory turning
no one writes the stories that we are
or reads them
no one plays a part
there is no actor underneath this nakedness
no one singing
no one dancing
no one loving
no one dissolving into love's infinite embrace
there is no one soaring
on wings of love
death is love's mirror
grief is her shadow
she reaches through your reflection
and plunges her tongue into your heart
the grief of all things lost
of all lovers
all yesterdays
and all tomorrows...
the devastating evisceration of this skinless world
the erasing of even your nakedness
leaves not a breath
nor song
but is the song of emptiness
singing itself
another story
another idea
falling through all ideas
coloring the dream with an unidentified perfume
igniting love's fire
for when there is not even a sky to fall through
or an ocean
or waves
or water
or tears
you find yourself again
shoe-less
foot-less
wing-less
skin-less
soaring through the dream of love
in love
as love
it is only the dream of wind dancing through itself
long trails of roses in the morning light
a bird I cannot see
sings the dawn
there is no need to sew water into drops
that will fill the ocean
no need to separate wetness
from your tears
hands may seem to move through morning skies
trying to capture this vastness
hearts may seem to be empty
or full
but it is only love singing a lullaby
shhhhhhhhh she says
it is only a beautiful dream
neither real nor unreal
neither true nor false
just a dream
dreaming itself
like this
no one reads the book but the pages seem to turn
all words have fallen through the paper
all is drifting
clouds
dissolving as they
almost
form
sky falls through her shadow
painted with a dream of blueness
and source-less light
transparency slides through transparency
and there is no sky or clouds or endless blue
nothing to be held
and no heart to hold it
we are liquid dreams slipping through an amorphous wetness
that has no taste nor smell
nor anything that can be seen
it is felt...
sky burning
the last embers of day
as all horizons unfolds into an inky blackness
that has no depth
nor end
I am sky
there is no sky
I am water
there is no water
simply liquid sky
dreaming itself
we are wings of love
soaring through sky
sky
soaring through sky
not two
not one
just hearts
beating
madly
falling
in love
with love
ocean paints its colors with sky reflection
I have no colors without you
there is not even nakedness
or a vacant silhouette
to fill in with cut out clothes and a face from a magazine
no empty page where you can write a story
of a girl
a woman
a songster
a lover of love
a lover of all that seems to appear
a lover falling in love with everyone I see....
....I seem to appear in the loving of you
love writes my lines
and erases me
thought is memory's paintbrush
anointing my eyes with infinite shades of summer
and tears to wash the colors into my heart
all colors paint this love
that cannot be held
or painted
all things fall through it
and are held in it
photos sing without words or music
memory paints the colors of morning
how would you know a flower without memory
what is a flower but memory
blossoming
and wilting
waterfalls of tears wash away the rainbows of the past
and the colors of an imaginary future
there is no actual knowing of flowers
or beauty
or love
perhaps that is why we love them so
awakening is utter intimacy
the slash of reds when my heart was eviscerated
the deep greeny blues when I was drowned
the clear transparency of sky
when I fell through my reflection
and the utter absence of light
when there was no one on the other side
I am the low howl of moon rushing across the desert sky
falling into a mirage of love
pools of echoes paint the colors of water
no one can grasp
you cannot hold moonlight yet you love it so
love's delicate petals cannot be grasped
for they are crushed
into memory of moon
I am a flowing portrait of memory
that no one ever posed for
no hand or camera created it
there are no lines to erase
or fill in with color
I am less substantial than the song that sings me
sky soars through sky
no need of wings
or feathers
or skin
I am a river of reflections
...flowing echoes of faces
of tears
and laughter
and wide eyed wonder
there is no source
nor end...
I dance with my shadow
on red canyon walls
there is no original dancer
only this dream ballet of light and shadow
that no one dreams
I am the singing of infinite fairy tales of wonder
a liquid mirror of reflections
of you and you and you and you...
you are not
I am not
love
is
not
and yet....
there is a dance of lovers
no one leads
no one follows
there is no before
or after
no steps to take
no where to go
in this canyon of echoes
singing you
singing me
singing
love
I can feel the curtains blowing in the room next door
I can feel the shadows blooming
I can feel the tree tops dancing
I can feel your heart breaking
for it is mine
it is ours
it is us
for a while the rhythm of the night
accompanies the first robin
a sigh
a pause
the hush before dawn....
as the crickets hide with the darkness under the roses
this silence cannot be extinguished
it is the fire that consumes us
this love without edges
pierces our hearts
and skins us alive
and we find nothing underneath the skin
the flesh and bones and blood never contained a person
there was no skin
to shred
there never was a mountain
to climb
the shoes were always empty
they never were....
simultaneously and inseparably without beginning or end
without oneness or twoness
we dance in love as love through love...
the dance of nothing at all is supersaturated with love... always the first and last kiss...
there are no two in emptiness
no two in love
I am the loving of you...
yet there is no one here
nor there
there is no here
nor there
nor In-between
yet
this is where we dance
and fall in love
and you are a beautiful love song that sings my heart into an ecstatic dance where dancers seem to appear and dissolve with every breath every note every sound every pause every word singing the infinite names of love....
we are the wings of love's all consuming embrace that erased us, and formed us into an unimaginably wondrous love song
never heard nor not heard
utterly apparent but never grasped...
dancing without time or space or any thing
or any one
dancing......
I am the loving of you.... together we are this dance of sublime liquidity, a water ballet of colored winds.... waterfalls of grace tumbling through an atemporal waltz of never and forever....
we exist only in between the remembering and forgetting...
in between the in between is a placeless place where love falls in love with her own echo and cannot find and cannot lose her place in this dance without dancers...
in this love without lovers
or love....
the is the dream of love, of lovers, of infinite rainbows bursting into a song that no one can hear or remember or forget yet all can feel it...
this is the magic they seek but cannot find, as we are this love without love...
we are this dance without dancers....
we have no words yet find our mouths... our breath... our lips our skin our tongues our hearts singing together....
in a language foreign and familiar
with vowels round and full and the staccato of consonants.... like the trees singing in the autumn winds.... or the dog barking in the distance.... and the tires on the road.... a corny country love song barely heard caught in the canyon winds and delivered straight to a heart that no one owns....
as our hearts have exploded into love's heart magic....
just like this we are a love song.... unabashedly human.... unabashedly in love with all and everything... and nothing at all.......
all are sublimely innocent.... choice-less imaginary personas.... masks without a head or face....
no one is wearing the character or playing a part...
we are all a flowing thought stream, which seems to swirl and flow yet never moves nor is not moving....
there is no center to the swirling... no beginning nor end nor middle
no one to hold on
or let go...
I feel like hugging every one I meet and telling them how beautiful they are and that I love them, but I don’t, as this can easily be misunderstood....
as I am also a beautifully innocent imaginary lover dancing down lovers lane...
painted by the perfume of sunset
and the wash of darkness....
knowing and feeling there is no other better more or next
this embrace of love's infinite intimacy longs to be shared
but it cannot
and I weep
and muddle along
looking for ways to say, 'I love you'
because I do
memory soars
through summer skies
ocean song
has no beginning nor end
you will never hear
any words that will fill you
or empty you
as you are nothing more or less than words
this thought stream that paints your world
spins a flowing web of morning
and billowy white flowers of night
wilting
eons of dreams
acres of tears
we are the pages of memory turning
no one writes the stories that we are
or reads them
no one plays a part
there is no actor underneath this nakedness
no one singing
no one dancing
no one loving
no one dissolving into love's infinite embrace
there is no one soaring
on wings of love
death is love's mirror
grief is her shadow
she reaches through your reflection
and plunges her tongue into your heart
the grief of all things lost
of all lovers
all yesterdays
and all tomorrows...
the devastating evisceration of this skinless world
the erasing of even your nakedness
leaves not a breath
nor song
but is the song of emptiness
singing itself
another story
another idea
falling through all ideas
coloring the dream with an unidentified perfume
igniting love's fire
for when there is not even a sky to fall through
or an ocean
or waves
or water
or tears
you find yourself again
shoe-less
foot-less
wing-less
skin-less
soaring through the dream of love
in love
as love
it is only the dream of wind dancing through itself
long trails of roses in the morning light
a bird I cannot see
sings the dawn
there is no need to sew water into drops
that will fill the ocean
no need to separate wetness
from your tears
hands may seem to move through morning skies
trying to capture this vastness
hearts may seem to be empty
or full
but it is only love singing a lullaby
shhhhhhhhh she says
it is only a beautiful dream
neither real nor unreal
neither true nor false
just a dream
dreaming itself
like this
no one reads the book but the pages seem to turn
all words have fallen through the paper
all is drifting
clouds
dissolving as they
almost
form
sky falls through her shadow
painted with a dream of blueness
and source-less light
transparency slides through transparency
and there is no sky or clouds or endless blue
nothing to be held
and no heart to hold it
we are liquid dreams slipping through an amorphous wetness
that has no taste nor smell
nor anything that can be seen
it is felt...
sky burning
the last embers of day
as all horizons unfolds into an inky blackness
that has no depth
nor end
I am sky
there is no sky
I am water
there is no water
simply liquid sky
dreaming itself
we are wings of love
soaring through sky
sky
soaring through sky
not two
not one
just hearts
beating
madly
falling
in love
with love
walking along the horizon between the night
and day time dream
falling into this empty breath
where empty words collide
dancing in between the in between
where nothing at all is dancing...
opal moon slides across the threshold
leaves this poem on my doorstep
painting this empty room
this empty heart
where love said goodbye to love
words swirl in a nautilus shell
ocean pours into a glass
and swallows me
infinite liquidity paints color into my breath
my heart
these songs
ignite the words they are written with
burning the pages
so your very being is exposed
to be words
fire cannot escape its own fate
wind rushes down main street
collecting leftover leaves and pieces of forgotten moon
swirling dreams of nowhere
gather in the gutters with yesterday's rain
reflecting memories of love's pyre
burning the dream of nakedness
as sky falls through its own sunset
where is the heart to hold your world
when your heart is the world?
where are the words to hold this love
when love is the words?
where is the sky in last night's dream
where is yesterday's sunset
...falling through empty pools of memory
washing color into this dream of day
we are the blossoms of yesterday's skies
petals falling into echoes of memory
how beautifully they kiss their reflection
in the wetness your eyes
