Tuesday, December 27, 2016



Dance of Honor

In the dance, we pause, step back, feeling deeply
all light, all shapes, all sound, all music, all feeling
and all the most inner and outer pulsing
of life and time -
a pause of reconnection, an honoring pause -
And then our next step forward.
Will it flow in harmony?
Will it be a continuity?
Will it be an honoring?

Without - we come from a world of destruction.
Needing food and drink and heat and protection from harm,
we took.
And that taking was destruction -
eating, clearing, mining, burning, killing.
Will we pause to reflect on the creation, on the giving
that makes our taking good things possible?
Is there a step we can take in harmony with the creativity of nature?
Do we honor the forms and the inner life of trees and passing clouds?

Within - we are imprisoned in sadness.
Have values become barriers? These needs, these reasoned arguments,
these obvious principles, these well-grounded formulas are spoken.
And still our meeting is all disputes and conflicts.
If you are so sad, why are you not crying?
  If we feel these barriers between us, why are we not untying them?
Let us approach in gentleness, assumptions aside.
I come with nothing and offer everything.
Behind your eyes is a tempest and a silver dawn.
We are dangerous and driven creatures.
Yet it is in weakness that our strength resides.
As much as we know each other,
that much can our power grow.
As much as we accept one another,
that much may we accomplish.
Whether, in this dance, I step close or step far away,
This open hand is my promise that I will honor you.

Sculpture/Poem (B)

                 Sky



 And the loneliness extends forever.
How empty is the sky.
   All of these comforts
we clinged to
drop away.
There are no fortresses, walls
or hidden corners
for our protection.
The place where nothing grows -
  What is the fruit of heaven?
    Where may be the foundation
for my edifice?
  I will go there anyway.
  I will fly
Because this wideness
can not be denied.




The sky is a landscape -
Terrains so high,
  Rising crests so tumultuous.
Our hearts fly through the firmament.
 The eagles and swallows may guide us
to the far habitations
Of those, ever diving,
who never fall,
   Those who bring us fog
and mist and rain,
  Receiving the far beams of light
Here, above the earth.
   This untouchable wideness
  becomes a hope
of something infinite.


Understory at Farmer Creek
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