who left these fingerprints on the mirror
who saw through the glass
empty of an other side
was there ever a hand
was there ever a face
was there ever someone looking?
words slide off the paper of an unsigned letter
pour through figures at dusk
dancing
as night unfolds her wings
the dream of love flies out of your secret pockets
she leaves your signature in every footfall
but your name begins to fade
it becomes just more loops and lines
like the apostrophes and commas of fallen pine needles
...once they held the sky in the tops of tree
now they hold nothing
there is nothing to hold
no fingerprints
no signature
no yesterday to gather sky
no tomorrow when we will dance
fallen shadows blossom
the story unravels
as it crochets itself with every word
water
evaporates
so do tears
naked fierce love pierced me
ripped apart time and space
consumed all the air
and my breath
leaving not even a vacuum
ruthlessly love devoured the ground upon which I stood
and my feet
she erased the very ground of being
all shadow and light
all sound and
silence
can sound exist without translation?
or is the word sound simply an assumption of knowing this unknowable infinite symphony of perception?
open your mouth and birds fly out
words with wings
that seem to be heard across the canyon
but are only feathers
in the wind
circling softly
back to you
love letters
unopened
never written
never sent
a lasso made of wind
seems to create a circle of wind
'but I know wind!' you may insist...
do you?
all your knowing is only more description
thought seemingly circling around an empty center
spinning a dream of things like wind
and your beautiful tenderness
and your tears
only in this imaginary dance of twoness
is there wind and tears and soft cheeks drying
words and music and love songs
...deep kisses
and laughter floating across the moonlit dawn
is there a wordless essence beyond these words
a wonderland of emptiness
without emptiness?
there is no center to a word
these lines are filled with spaces
there is no bare root or meaning to any word
each word is naked like a note
lost in itself
and we are its overtones
as we are the color and sound of words
pouring through the shades and timbre of memory
floating through this poem
we are these very words streaming through our eyes
thought is a dream song singing itself
you cannot get stuck in words
there is no you outside of thought
we are linguistic paintings
an infinite dream world where water color paintings dissolve into their own colors
a river of song soaring through rainbows
we are arcs of scintillating light
requiring imaginary separation to be seen
to be heard
and to love
yellow finches
and ring necked doves at the feeders
sun slides across the grasses
slowly
gently
waves of shine and shadow have no rhythm
yet they are rhythm itself
ocean of light pours through me
I am this ocean song
of wind and light
and vast untamed seas
where there is no sound or silence
no stillness
nor movement
nor any one to sing
spider webs strung like Christmas lights across the garden
seem to gather space into a gift of light
suspended as the hush
the breath
of shimmering
bathing in its own ungraspable beauty
I swim through the softness of morning
roar of the garbage truck growling down the street
wind soars down the canyon
skipping sunlight across the waters
my reflection disappears into the shimmering
and I am neither lost
nor found
there is just the singing of echoes
reflections
dancing
no one can read the calligraphy of cloud shadows racing down the street
there is no need
to decipher love
or to hold starlight
to know its beauty
you turn around and cannot find the past
only an empty street where no one wandered
you spin and spin and cannot find tomorrow
there is no sign that cannot be read
its all words
they contain no meaning
or non meaning
there is no direction in a spinning sea of echoes
you drown in your own reflection
after the deluge the sun rises from your chest
leaving a vast measureless emptiness
and shadows of forgotten melodies
drifting down the streets
pooling in the gutters
where fallen leaves and blossoms gather
ancient stars pour through your hands
your tongue
your heart
made of starlight
without words
there is no center
or edge
to this song of life
singing starlight into your eyes
pouring our reflections
into love's burning echo
wind dances and does not leave her footprints
is it her smile upon your face?
does she long to dry your tears
or caress your softness?
or are you the longing
to dance with the wind
spinning into ourselves looking for a center
not even nothing can be found...
we find we are simply
a pirouette of wind
in wind
we are wind's echo
we find ourselves in the resonance of each other's reflection
we are liquid mirrors
soaring through the day dream of love
water
flows
disappears
into its own wetness
wind slides into its own movement
and love
well love is in the loving
river of love requires imaginary sides
but it seems to over flow its banks
saturate all and everything with an indescribable brilliance
you are the eyes of love
the light of the universe
caressing all and everything into existence
without you there is no water
no wetness
no wind
no love
and you are my heart song echoing in the trees and mountains and deep deep canyons that we can never cross... we exist only as echos of echoes and there is no more looking for the beginning or the end of the wind that soars across the great divide...
there is just the wind.... dancing.... with wind
we magically appear in the dancing....
only in each other's love light is there this resonance... this source-less echo...
without this dream of reflections... there is not even darkness... there is no outside... there are no sides...
we seem to be the dancers to unseen music.... a music that relies on separate notes and gaps.... and soft eyes and ears and tender squishy bodies....
....I am the loving of you... and the missing of you
gently
softly
wind caresses you from the inside out
and you are the wind's caress
Somehow the dream of infinite shadows fell through a dream of infinite mirrors and dissolved into this dream of infinite love
heart sings and there is no answer
only an echo
burning
in the marrow of love
utterly alone we do not exist
only in this imaginary space in-between sound
and silence
in between light
and dark
in between echoes our hearts mouth the words
and we are love's breath resonating...
love is the dance in between everything
and nothing
in between never
and forever
we are bathed in cricket song and the surround sound of moon
I am these words that paint my silhouette
empty of light
empty of shadow
twirling down the wet sidewalk
dancing with my own reflection
but there is no one here
nor there
there is no here nor there
nor in between
mirror of moon
has no other side
wind howls across the long desert moon
it is your love song
that cuts you to the core
you watch all your most intimate secrets
the very heart of you
a silhouette of echoes
dissolve
who left these fingerprints on the mirror
who saw through the glass
empty of an other side
was there ever a hand
was there ever a face
was there ever someone looking?
words slide off the paper of an unsigned letter
pour through figures at dusk
dancing
as night unfolds her wings
the dream of love flies out of your secret pockets
she leaves your signature in every footfall
but your name begins to fade
it becomes just more loops and lines
like the apostrophes and commas of fallen pine needles
...once they held the sky in the tops of tree
now they hold nothing
there is nothing to hold
no fingerprints
no signature
no yesterday to gather sky
no tomorrow when we will dance
fallen shadows blossom
the story unravels
as it crochets itself with every word
water
evaporates
so do tears
naked fierce love pierced me
ripped apart time and space
consumed all the air
and my breath
leaving not even a vacuum
ruthlessly love devoured the ground upon which I stood
and my feet
she erased the very ground of being
all shadow and light
all sound and
silence
can sound exist without translation?
or is the word sound simply an assumption of knowing this unknowable infinite symphony of perception?
open your mouth and birds fly out
words with wings
that seem to be heard across the canyon
but are only feathers
in the wind
circling softly
back to you
love letters
unopened
never written
never sent
a lasso made of wind
seems to create a circle of wind
'but I know wind!' you may insist...
do you?
all your knowing is only more description
thought seemingly circling around an empty center
spinning a dream of things like wind
and your beautiful tenderness
and your tears
only in this imaginary dance of twoness
is there wind and tears and soft cheeks drying
words and music and love songs
...deep kisses
and laughter floating across the moonlit dawn
is there a wordless essence beyond these words
a wonderland of emptiness
without emptiness?
there is no center to a word
these lines are filled with spaces
there is no bare root or meaning to any word
each word is naked like a note
lost in itself
and we are its overtones
as we are the color and sound of words
pouring through the shades and timbre of memory
floating through this poem
we are these very words streaming through our eyes
thought is a dream song singing itself
you cannot get stuck in words
there is no you outside of thought
we are linguistic paintings
an infinite dream world where water color paintings dissolve into their own colors
a river of song soaring through rainbows
we are arcs of scintillating light
requiring imaginary separation to be seen
to be heard
and to love
yellow finches
and ring necked doves at the feeders
sun slides across the grasses
slowly
gently
waves of shine and shadow have no rhythm
yet they are rhythm itself
ocean of light pours through me
I am this ocean song
of wind and light
and vast untamed seas
where there is no sound or silence
no stillness
nor movement
nor any one to sing
spider webs strung like Christmas lights across the garden
seem to gather space into a gift of light
suspended as the hush
the breath
of shimmering
bathing in its own ungraspable beauty
I swim through the softness of morning
roar of the garbage truck growling down the street
wind soars down the canyon
skipping sunlight across the waters
my reflection disappears into the shimmering
and I am neither lost
nor found
there is just the singing of echoes
reflections
dancing
no one can read the calligraphy of cloud shadows racing down the street
there is no need
to decipher love
or to hold starlight
to know its beauty
you turn around and cannot find the past
only an empty street where no one wandered
you spin and spin and cannot find tomorrow
there is no sign that cannot be read
its all words
they contain no meaning
or non meaning
there is no direction in a spinning sea of echoes
you drown in your own reflection
after the deluge the sun rises from your chest
leaving a vast measureless emptiness
and shadows of forgotten melodies
drifting down the streets
pooling in the gutters
where fallen leaves and blossoms gather
ancient stars pour through your hands
your tongue
your heart
made of starlight
without words
there is no center
or edge
to this song of life
singing starlight into your eyes
pouring our reflections
into love's burning echo
wind dances and does not leave her footprints
is it her smile upon your face?
does she long to dry your tears
or caress your softness?
or are you the longing
to dance with the wind
spinning into ourselves looking for a center
not even nothing can be found...
we find we are simply
a pirouette of wind
in wind
we are wind's echo
we find ourselves in the resonance of each other's reflection
we are liquid mirrors
soaring through the day dream of love
water
flows
disappears
into its own wetness
wind slides into its own movement
and love
well love is in the loving
river of love requires imaginary sides
but it seems to over flow its banks
saturate all and everything with an indescribable brilliance
you are the eyes of love
the light of the universe
caressing all and everything into existence
without you there is no water
no wetness
no wind
no love
and you are my heart song echoing in the trees and mountains and deep deep canyons that we can never cross... we exist only as echos of echoes and there is no more looking for the beginning or the end of the wind that soars across the great divide...
there is just the wind.... dancing.... with wind
we magically appear in the dancing....
only in each other's love light is there this resonance... this source-less echo...
without this dream of reflections... there is not even darkness... there is no outside... there are no sides...
we seem to be the dancers to unseen music.... a music that relies on separate notes and gaps.... and soft eyes and ears and tender squishy bodies....
....I am the loving of you... and the missing of you
gently
softly
wind caresses you from the inside out
and you are the wind's caress
Somehow the dream of infinite shadows fell through a dream of infinite mirrors and dissolved into this dream of infinite love
heart sings and there is no answer
only an echo
burning
in the marrow of love
utterly alone we do not exist
only in this imaginary space in-between sound
and silence
in between light
and dark
in between echoes our hearts mouth the words
and we are love's breath resonating...
love is the dance in between everything
and nothing
in between never
and forever
we are bathed in cricket song and the surround sound of moon
I am these words that paint my silhouette
empty of light
empty of shadow
twirling down the wet sidewalk
dancing with my own reflection
but there is no one here
nor there
there is no here nor there
nor in between
mirror of moon
has no other side
wind howls across the long desert moon
it is your love song
that cuts you to the core
you watch all your most intimate secrets
the very heart of you
a silhouette of echoes
dissolve
what is the sound of dew evaporating in the morning sun?
what is the song of tears
dissolving into their own wetness
sorrow
evaporating into its own beautiful melancholy
memories
slide through the thought stream
leaving no echo to beat your heart
nor signature on the window
as even transparency loses its solidity
what happens when words like sound and silence lose their meaning?
when even truth and meaning looses their grip on the dream...
when footprints gather fallen blossoms
and past and future are crushed into the flavor of your own
utter
aloneness
wind falls through its own breath
colors swirl under your feet
the ground dissolves
there is no one left to lose their footing
no hands to grasp the air
air and space are sucked into their own breath...
and wind breathes you
once again into the dance
there are no words left to describe
the absence of all and everything
and the fullness of it all
ahhhhhhhh.....
this magically appearing and disappearing scintillating dream
and the overwhelming love of it all
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