The Sublime

Heaven is when and where my soul would contentedly reside forever, were it not for the march of time. This is what I mean when I declare the sublime. 

The Meeting of Souls

Blinding not your brilliant light does pulse

Illuminated all first and last

What patterns you ever wove

What chorus you ever sang

Ever before these senses began

Ever after they end

Imagining thread and song and love

Completed mind full but empty

You knew me long ago

You foresaw us far ahead

Ever inside her 

Ever within him 

And yet

Blind I am made

Deaf I am rendered

Erased my loves and lovers

You shroud me in darkness 

And deliver me again, hidden 

Spectating we might believe

Interested we might imagine 

Black within boundless womb

Dark along timeless path

Now again light

And full of music

Slow to remember some do sink

Returning to darkness

Quick to awareness some do fly 

Racing toward the sun 

All unique each unfolding 

Our paths cross once more

Then glimpsing becomes seeing

Then singing becomes chorus 

And my soul emerges, freed

And yet already, completed

Why then these surprises

Why now this revelation

Because 

Because 

Because

Because 

Fulgent and buried we fall in love

Two souls, our souls, all souls be cause

Down River

Sweet dreams of tender mind
well they slumbered in nests imagined
wished then started
grown and sewn and blessed and home
these souls too were us

upon sunrise tears revealed kissed
molten swirling made fast
on that rock where love's milk was offered
autumnal hints down river, yet
known by children old souls

crystal skies amber almonds
haunting dreams desired given
dreams not shaken from eyes velvet
while we basked in sunsets and made our promise
through seasons now we learn

why nothing known can be
why trust is all that is
and time is all that was
and patience will we hope continue
delivering life to our souls mated

may our love wake ever more
down river.

My Body Betrayed My Mind

My bony lattice ever longing for the tall
keeping this spirit from idling sway
saving this pup from washing
upon those smug saloons
locked there by seeming mountaintops beneath
skinny bopping maypole wound and crying quickly

because my body
this body of mine
this body of mind
betrayed mine
betrayed mind
betrayed mind.

We could not consummate the marriage
of the insides of our room

and yet my body
this body of mine
this body of mind
betrayed mine
betrayed mind
betrayed mind.

My neural swamp thing hitting on this wall
keeping this Casio from ticking away
saving this Puer from washing
upon those prudish piles
laughed there by seeming melancholy bye
some dominatrix of her heart entangled in

and yet my body
this body of mine
this body of mind
betrayed mine
betrayed mind
betrayed mind.

We could not consummate the marriage
of the red sides of our bloom

and yet my body
this body of mine
this body of mind
betrayed mine
betrayed mind
betrayed mind.

My secret chaos asked to this ball
keeping this fishnet from tightening down
saving this pen from washing
upon those baked beachheads
lulled there by seeming madness diagnosed
how to write or paint or form if not to feel it

and yet my body
this body of mine
this body of mind
betrayed mine
betrayed mind
betrayed mind.

We could not consummate the marriage
of the gray sides of our dune

and yet my body
this body of mine
this body of mind
betrayed mine
betrayed mind
betrayed mind.

My Brandywine ailing passed in the hall
keeping those cuts hidden 'neath her gown
saving these loins from washing
upon those tinted locks
loved there by seeming melodrama queen
her heart lies throbbing say the Smiths between the lines

because my body
this body of mine
this body of mind
betrayed mine
betrayed mind
betrayed mind.

We could not consummate the marriage
of the dark sides of our moon

because my body
this body of mine
this body of mind
betrayed mine
betrayed mind
betrayed mind.

My lifeline holding fast to this claw
keeping this carcass from drifting with the tides
saving this soul from washing
upon those unknown shores
lured there by seeming maidens offered torn
flesh in cages rotting, pungent and delicious

because my body
this body of mine
this body of mind
betrayed mine
betrayed mind
betrayed mind.

We could not consummate the marriage

of the white sides of our tune

the white sides of our tune

the dark sides of our moon

the gray sides of our dune

the red sides of our bloom

the insides of our room.

Daily wishes for my mothers

To my mother, the Cancer (the Moon):

Ever a rainbow glistening on the layers of wisdom you slowly help us accumulate through the seasons of our years;

Ever a soft and cheerful bubbling we discover from the depths of your narration of our history, our legacy, our well, our purity;

Ever a sanctuary of still reflection as morning silently conjures those pools of fondest memory where you dwell in us forever;

Ever a churning symphony illuminating those canyons you help us form, guiding our souls into sacred valleys and gorges ancient yet new;

Ever the rays of life penetrating the depths of our hearts, your unfailing tides of intuition inspiring us to trust ourselves and cling fiercely to our loves and convictions;

Ever the sweet vigor in our veins as your boundless power pushes us to achieve an ever greater fullness of life.

You, mother, are the glacier, the spring, the pool, the river, the ocean, the blood of this earth. You move any and nourish all.

We love you, need you and cherish you eternally.

--

To my mother, the Libra (Venus):

Ever the subtle rustling and swaying that animates the canvasses of our existence, moving every through, around and between;

Ever the steady keeper of the knowledge high above, swirling and gusting always forward in ways knowable and thus to be depended upon;

Ever a song, sometimes quietly, sometimes swiftly, sometimes forcefully, always poetically resonating in the connected spaces woven together to form our landscapes of experience;

Ever the warm embrace of summers love, radiating upward and penetrating inward to soothe our souls and invite us to rest in splendor;

Ever the fuel from which our energy is birthed, a billion small tidings of your joyous chords the power for all molten making;

Ever the medium of our voices and nutrition, endlessly vibrating and reverberating our truths, our thoughts, our dreams and our wishes, you call us together and to gather.

You, mother, are the breeze, the clouds, the wind, the warmth, the oxygen, the air upon the earth. You touch any and connect all.

We love you, need you and cherish you eternally.

To a dear friend and co-conspirator

Pain and sorrow, when genuinely felt, is the bedrock of constructive will. The sadness you feel over Valeria's fate reveals the depth of the friendship you share. That friendship is worth more to many than any palace of success. We build palaces of glass and indeed they may easily shatter. Such a friendship cannot shatter; nor can it crumble, for it is the earth itself. Feel the pain, embrace the sadness, and recognize that your roots in this earth thus expand. And from great roots, and from them alone may the tallest and the strongest trees grow. We all must choose our forest, our land, the place and space into which our branches will spread and also from which we will take our share of light. Fortunately for us, in the abstract landscape of our "existence" there is no scarcity or limit to how much light we may receive or release. Unlike our cousins in the forest, we need not dwarf and starve our neighbor in the service of capturing light for our own growing branches. This is miraculous. It is the infinity made possible by our minds. And we have already given it a name:  soul. All these souls are ours, are us. Not every soul will touch the infinite in life, but those who can feel the deepest pain also may realize the nearest sensation to that which we also named, as God. Although our most recent physicists may have demonstrated that every action does not actually have an equal and opposite reaction, Newton and his contemporaries were not far off. And thus, I advise you to take heart in the likelihood that the depth of your pain--over Valeria, over anything that is truly hurting you--may yield a creative recoil of similar depth or height. Channel that energy. If you feel the spontaneous need to translate your sorrow, or your happiness or your breakthrough, do so, as I do now in this soliloquy. Only from that rootbase of emotional energy can we move in ways that will move others. I'm excited at what you will do, and amazed at what you already have done. Not bad for a kid from Winston. ...takes one to know one ;). 

A Dreamer's Waking

A thousand days dreamed far
Not wide nor weary nor wild
Imagined loves too known
Each but every embered trial
Believed beyond what boyish may
This these that are memoir many
One seen wiles others simmer
Buried molten belying whisper
Bye those eyes desiring
Some thousand Eves each not every
Bloomed full passion's flower
He loved them all a minute more
No less so many dreams
No more so few days
'Til one was all