the window

.
when I leave
I will slip out the window
unseen -- like a thief in the night
taking only the jewel but leaving a seed
of its light for visitors who can see
with the eyes of every night
as stars shine through
the window
.

emergence

• We watched the movie, Juno, last night. Sweet. Appropriate drama. Love working its way through lives becoming aware and living rich in unfoldment.
• And in the night, in the night and this morning awakening, the leg of my wife and lover, bent and laid across my middle... my hands remembered the emergence:

emergence

you touched me
with the emerging force
of an always-known universe
forgotten and remembered
a million times
each like the only
remembering of my
very self -- the touch
a heel or elbow
you know
with both hands
on her belly
you touched me

• One daughter. Two. Or a million... And how many sons? In this life, upon our first birth and her subsequent emerging in light and character, I wondered how could love be any better than this. Upon the second, I knew that love is not limited to the small concept of one or two, but is expressed in the limitlessness of the One Source in All. And I'm reminded every day in the voices and actions of a story that reforms and self-rights a back-story of limited minds. Our intellects have a low ceiling without love--offered and accecpted.
  

late martin

.
knocking now on dawn's window
what was only random thoughts of longing
now a song more seen than heard
as the frozen wind
rattling branches and drifting white
wisps for a new note
of possibility .
only yesterday
still rain and gloom-cast
then like a late martin migrating
air currents carry my heart
to every corner of chance
now seeing only aces
in a hand of magic
to play the heart card
and start a fire in the hearth .
knowing weather's wind of change
and every morning's dawn
draws open the blind
of new possibility
and sunshine
.

First Breath

As a scent on the wind, or a mist
rolling into the valley at night
as a glance of a stranger
a smile from a baby's
contended delight
at awakening…
Come to me
like the thought
of great grandfather
who died before I was born…
Oh God, come to me like my first breath
and the breast of my mother
the Magic, the Life
of your love
.

Along the River

Some lives are lived ~ and at the end: fond memories.
Others -- relief at their completion. What next?

Remember the journey
along River Millennia . . .
Was endless and joy
in the summer
of bounty
blueberries
sweet reverie together
before the forest
and quiet sleep
of dreams
with amber light
white clouds building.
And then . . .
Do your remember?

Island Oasis

On the desert of mystery
My thirst is quenched
And flasks are filled
At the oasis.
Lost at sea in a dingy
An island appears
Promising life,
O rejoice!
I am a traveler of time
Mariner of the universe
Pleiades, Atlantis, Egypt and now.
Island oasis for Soul
And I know my true home
Is of ever and always
Of an island oasis
Not here.
.