I rise to mate my voice with yours, Darling Poet
of my heart, but in the gentle devastation of your
presence, all my simple songs melt into silence
and I stand here mute, lilting softly off balance
against the background of a perfect balance
reflected in the brilliance of your shine.
The listening born within this silence,
the intimacy of the sky with the horizon,
the way some meandering streams just end
in the middle of nowhere in particular, exhaling
an invisible secret that every light-eyed creature
bathes in – all of this is evidence to anyone who
imagines some distance from their Source that
there has never been a trace of separation.
You are closer to me than I am to myself.
Each luscious poem-sound we make
is carried on the breath of some glad god
whom no one has yet found a way to worship.
Such living poetry is our prayer of gratitude
and praise for the appearance of each other
in the midst of this mystery, this
We float, a golden leaf on that breeze,
blown far beyond any mythic archetypes
of grace-granting divinity by the loving grace
of a divinity for which none can account,
any more than for this touch
we blissfully share.
There are beings of exquisite radiance
who let their love flow through the universe
with no limit or recoil, no fear or demand.
Their True Sanctuary is none other than
our own Abode, as we come to rest
in this touch at the Heart —
your Touch, Beloved,
Each morning, musing,
I sit at this drifting continent
of thoughts moving forward,
a slow-motion leap.
Always arising inside
are islands of me, of You,
of the whole squirming tangle
of humanity’s Heart heaving sighs.
Some wildly flapping bright bird
of words cries out.
Oh, this streamer of Dawn,
this trailer of Light —
Winging across this page,
feathered fingers caress each moment
of Your life with great gladness.
Some fine finger of Light
begs to paint in Your Heart.
The choices are fragrant,
like winter bittersweet in bloom
and I am become all
open-mouthed poet, a koan moan
spilling my blood-light, my heartbeat,
straight through your Soul-eyes,
and a million new poems
are brought to the dance.
Each single word
is a new country,
a full-circled Kiss.
So much sunlight
keeps pouring from You
that melons and figs are leaping
into the ground before
they’re even a seed!
Let this parade
of friendly mothers-to-be
just give that last push
out into Light!
Another Poem-Soul cries out
in the first breath of life!