CPoetry

inside looking; You tell me how to look through Your looking. inside nature; my soul disperses among the trees, flowering plants, seeds. You are the lake and i, in you, grow like algae. inside darkness; You are the darkness, covering me, smothering me in an unknown that i am suppose to face. You are both fear, and enlightenment. inside truth; You tell me, See past conditions. These conditions are lies, the truth is underneath. Somewhere inside all those you meet is a glow; A sphere of wholeness, both touched by lies and untouchable by them. Find it within everyone because it is pure. Of love. It is the hiding in the unhidden you must know about me; The moral of my story is inside the moral itself. ::: painting in the abstract tailors to emotions. painting in the concrete tailors to fault lines and boundaries. painting in the mixed forms tailors to the composition. painting in the form itself tailors to the painter. she, he, they bec

this love is a tablespoon of olive oil poured in a skillet. when God-heat is applied, the oil covers the entirety of the skillet's surface. when the food source of another love is placed within it, a raw meat is cooked. stoves have an eternal heat source. olive oil does not; the olive oil chose to absorb God-heat within itself, and made the further choice of loving another love; essence is the cooking. presence is the cooked meat before you. love this way and you will never go hungry again. ::: how many times have we watched rain from the ground up? take a sudden rainstorm; do not run inside. do not yell at its inconvenience. let the rain show happen and wait. it is the smell of rain that brings the greatest celebration; beneath the surface, air bubbles in rain droplets trap bacteria and other toxins in the soil. the air bubbles rise to the surface and release the bacteria and toxins as aerosols. to feel its fragrance

oh how foolish i must have looked on the bus the other day; gazing at the same scenery as if i was understanding what it means to gaze. we drive past the same stops, on the same streets, by the same stores and restaurants, past the same trees. only today, i am anew. stopped at a red light, i am stopped myself. there is a tree on a corner, one i have seen many times before. but the season of Fall is here, holding us in her chilled embrace. i see the leaves, their colors, and Aha! a sharp knowing pinches me on the forehead. Fall is trying to tell me something: Watch the leaves on my tree-children. Watch them  obey and surrender to the faith-fire of the sun. All summer they grow out into unknowing, insecurity, blankness, openness, whatever they think it is but they remain attached to a fearful but nurturing source. My grandchildren, who let the sun burn them into red, yellow, orange, and brown shades of commitment   eventually  find surrender. When they fal

candles is what we are, with our skin, the wax holding its own, but the miracle is our softness; the miracle of candles is in our ability to melt . let the fire of your worries and demons catch on the wick inside. the wick is not there for your happiness. watch what occurs. watch the burning. this burning only happens in the presence. a voice says,  Endure it! keep burning. keep hurting. hurt more. a greater joy lies in the heat of the flame that laughs in its conversation with the wick. keep burning. keep hurting. hurt again, hurt more until darkness. suddenly, a fragrance within smoke--- heat lost, conversation stopped, this whisking away in the light lost. sweet release. sweet freedom. f o    r     e g  i  v    n   es        s. ::: sit on the shelf as a piece of ceramic. stay there and collect dust. be used, be f

::: ::: ::: i am about to speak a truth that is barely spoken of. if i try to say it out loud, it will disappear just as quickly as it came. turn off all the lights in the room. information like this can only be understood in absence. ~ why does any body of water look more beautiful when it is calm? the wind of our waves is not ours. reverse the vacuum suction. learn, again, to become the tide in a tidal wave. ::: ::: :::

standing, Your eyes, on top of stairs. i feel relief. sitting, Your eyes, when in a chair. i feel... this skin screams at the equator. i would rather cease to a thousand fire ants eating me than look in Your meadows. make me a well, so that i will always be looking up. ::: go inside; seeds are not found outside of fruit. inside resides a gardener with all the tools needed for growth. do this, and someday, there will be farmer's market in your soul. ::: I stumble, I walk a little crooked, I try to be tall. Oh, pshh, don't help me! I got this. How could I write this  silly me why do I try to this isss silly. Did I say that already? I did, oh well. No I promise, I am just fine. Arrow straight. That's me!! No need to help me. My clarity is clearer than clear can be. No water please. I drink that in my sleep. What? In my sleep? What am I saying? Really ok? I'm ok. I promise. (apologies for how i was last eve

take the pedals off the flower. throw away the leaves. take the stem and put it in the river. what quivers is the stamen left behind. stop and let them die. stop and let the browning begin. stop and watch stamen disappear into soil. whatever existed prior of that flower is now gone, yet Spring speaks to say, Oh, but look at it now. This flower has made a field. See the bumblebees and dragonflies taking from their fruitness? ::: hands hold wine glasses. some reach out to greet a shoulder, others talk with joy in movement. audio accompanies their dances. is there anything more pleasant than watching Your hands moving? moving, never still, still moving. distance keeps me; i am sedentary here so others can move, even though i am always reaching out; i chose to be the coat rack on Christmas Eve. ::: two woman dance under the moonlight. they are only silhouettes from where i can see. was it a drink or a few? they celebra