With Family

Writing of love...of love and family...of relationships and of mirrors. What seems to be missing..what I ache for and yearn for and know now, that there need not be a resolve for. Irrefutable in its strength of bond there is joy and sorrow in the greeting of eyes. In the familiarity of this gathered kin, we celebrate and we share stories from the ancient battlefield.To be with family is not contingent on sharing physical space in the same geographical location. I am with you family at every moment. Presently you are here, on rain dampened city streets and bridges, by the river..with wind and the soft deliberate flight of evening birds. Watching this beauty unfold together.
Together.

Vanda Scaravelli

"Like Gods, we must have time, infinite time. Gods are not limited or restricted by time as they have a different perspective.
For them, a whole life can last only a few minutes. To have time implies that quality of elegance and ease which gives poise to our movements and wisdom to our action.
Pushed by rush, most of the time, we are compressed, mean, and narrow-minded. Why not open the doors and let air, wind and sun penetrate into our hearts?"

The Queen's Lands

Outside
the benevolent hum of commuting automobiles
buzz saws
hydraulic cranes and
wailing children
persuaded
an exhausted spine,
aching for reprieve,
to curl
rapidly
towards the cushion.

A mind clenched in disordered thoughts
warily moved into sleep.

Shadowed forms cloaked and hooded
in
blackened vellum
danced
the steps of
beguiling lies
as the drifter
abdicated from the throne.

Walking
in humid meadows that had once been flood plains
she couldn't hear a thing.

Hopelessly exposed
to a light
that relentlessly plunged into ancient spiderwebs
and beheaded
the most alluring
of nettles,

the walking turned to plodding
and
as milky air parted between the footsteps,


there was before her

A heart.

Yes!

A heart

This heart!

It could be seen on the horizon of
a blushed cream sunset.

And this heart
was envenomed
in envious threads
and this heart
was guarded by
nefarious ivy.

Yet what was realized

what was made very clear to the onlooker
was that this heart was as any other
this heart was not special
this heart was not different.

This heart longed only for a mother

a mother with a thousand hands

a mother who hears all the cries of the world

this mother.

And what came forth,
before,
and after
was a
great
heavy
sigh.......
one that could awaken

and
as the dust from shattered concrete
swirled
and began to settle
in the doorways
eyelids softly murmured open.

A pale hand held open
in a vulnerable gesture
and in the palm

a fly

resting,
in a tiny heap
of shattered armour
weighed heavily .


Her eyelids stopped flickering and settled
to feel
the end of its life.

She arose and cupped the fly
in her hand
and as she brought this hand
towards her mouth
she whispered a few
careful words.

Outside
the trains had ceased running
streetlights began their nightly duty
shhhhhhhh.......

come on
let's go.

cow patty

We are fellow travelers
and when we meet we learn to listen

That hate is a cow patty with tire tracks
running through it
she said
and it's been so long all her life
and her face is an injured eagle

time has passed and the
cow patty
is an
asphalt continent
creaking and cracking and groaning
oh,
it's breaking away from
its raft

And when you meet a fellow traveler you hug her

cradled in the arms
of a mother bear
we were safe as houses

A fellow traveler
She said
god is the space between us
right now
while we're in these chairs
while we're holding hands
and we're not thinking
about our
empty glasses

When I saw these eyes that I had known
and the fellow traveler
he said
You are your fathers daughter
and before you leap away little one
just as you're used to
take my arm.
What will you remember tonight?
My fellow traveler
you are still here

When you meet a fellow traveler
don't you hate her just because her hands appear useless
abandoned to daydreams of tasks
eyes that once were chimes
now sit as
empty catacombs

and

try not to hate him.....
he's as frail as a poisoned fairy
pursued by angry tumbleweeds
though he believes
his hands are useful
oh dear
yes he does,
and they're holding pretty words
while they
wait

well,

maybe
when you meet a fellow traveler

you might drop your weary shoulders
and let your jaw become soft

even if your mouth is wired
even if you know
even if you're right

we just need you
and
we just met.

dogwood

Now do not be distracted

One can't promise the spring blooms
will listlessly fall into your lap
whispering
with the elongated sighs
of the wind
here we are always

Do not be distracted

One can't misuse a day
of blah
blah blah
blah blah blah blah
blah blah blah blah blah
blah blah blah blah
yes
Do not be distracted

The story is painful
As forests animal forms
children parents
shoes schools markets
and flags
exploded with mechanical contempt
transformed to heated ash
a brother, with a firm hand
on the shoulder
of a brother
speaks deliberately,
-You must look-
And do not be distracted

The story is soft
and cloudy with feathers of a
golden goose
and horses that
dance on water
dipped hyacinth
night blooming jasmine surround
the guarded meadow parties
lit with music
endless beverages
and intricately decorated treats
both sweet and savory......
still and still
and
still
Do not be distracted

Perhaps
the devil is the cat peering from behind the heater vent
and faces of terrible ghosts stare glacially through
the linoleum
and "Oh what fun it is to ride
as she'll be coming around the mountain!"
Can you repeat?

Now
do not be distracted

And one can't promise
and
one
can't
promise
We can not promise
yes...

Please
Do not be distracted

Thank you my dear Mom

Out Beyond Ideas

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase "each other" doesn't make any sense.

mevlana jelaluddin rumi - 13th century

Dahlia in the garden