Glory

Glory

is steadfast.

A million directions
you think you have gone,
but not a one
has ever
left Glory
for a moment

Glory can't be abandoned
(can you abandon the sun?)

Your life is Glory's

Glory is steadfast;
there is nothing apart from it

every move you make,
every breath you take,
divine,
Glory

what you think you do
independently
is a nothing
but a joke

free will,
a joke

Glory has no alternate

you are forever Glory

no choice about it,
no matter what you think--
that's just a tale,
just a humorous tale

Glory is your birth mother.
You can't take Her out of you.

This Mother's Day
recognize
Glory
is your only substance.

The Only Substance
there is.

See it.
Everywhere.
Your Mother.
Glory.

marbles

walking on marbles,

there is no stability
to illusions

no wonder the slightest whishper
blows you over

what i think
"they think",
and my feet are up ended,
the house lost
and abandoned

no government in the world
can give you safety

no insurance,
no partner,
no self esteem book,
no perfect body

the only answer
is to get off the marbles,

the simple truth

benign

benign

incapable of harm,
loss,
destruction

the baby pool
can slay no steamer,
no cruise ship

benign: seeing
how the magic trick
is done

you can't sink
or get lost
in your own
baby pool

the ginormous
shrinks back
to its own backyard
proportions

the  measurement between
the stars
becomes manageable

oh, i see...
just step out of the pool...
why didn't i think of that?!
followed by peals of laughter

someone torched
my neighbor's house
this morning ("seriously")

what would i have to
be believing?

when have i torched
my neighbor?

judge your neighbor,
ask four questions,
turn it around

and the fire men,
police,
mobile command station
can rest at home,

but how else
would i get to meet
such kind, caring, helpful beings,
to see the help available even when
i'm not home,
the service,
the caregiving,
the integrity,
the response to the call,
the community

benign

you never can really leave
what you are

what a big call for help--
torching a house

i guess that's what it took
to finally get some attention

Can someone just listen to me, PLEASE?!

where am i not listening,
not attending
to someone's call
for help?

for my own?

where's the fire,
sweet one?

can i just listen...

not sterile

stillness
is not sterile

sterile is a concept,
a visitor,
that once in the door
and on your couch
will deliver
every proof
of sterility--
every expert testimony,
eons of repetition
of the ancient primer,
simply retold

stillness
is not boring,
"boredom" is not empty
or lacking--
a movie
that would convince the all powerful
that it is powerless
is full
of extraordinary seduction!
hardcore
techno saavy

my job is to watch,
to observe
this visitor,

to see

take her pulse,
her blood pressure,
note her symptoms

and when i look very closely
i see there is actually
nothing solid
there at all

the doctor
is NOT the patient

it's only confusion
to think i
become the one
who visits

isn't it mind boggling
that "i" could conceive
of any part of the universe
as sterile!
or boring!?

HA! that is really a wild idea!

invisible

Absolute Stillness
is
death
of
body
mind
world,
but not of You

invisible--
cannot be seen
nor heard
nor touched
nor tasted
nor smelled

no thing to do,
being all doing

no where to go,
being all that is

it is as if the wind
is your lover,
always whispering in your ear,
but you keep looking for a "man",
so you cannot hear
the continual
Love song song song:
dearest, oh dear, dear Dearest

the grass sings your praises,
the sun smiles,
the clouds cool and offer shade

the very floor squeaks with delight,
the door creaks,
the birds greet,
all living things make fertile,
reflect your Fertility

every branch,
every stick,
every stone,
every car, truck and plane,
a sign

a handwritten message

what you are
in the complete absence of judgement

no thing

invisibility is homeopathic,
the slightest taste
and all else falls

Easter

a  herd of horses,
a quiet pond,
i had a stampede of cattle
on my chest
the last few days

tourniquets do cut off the blood,
white knuckles
unrelenting
instead of sleep

the caveman
worried meat would be scarce
this winter

his children might starve

today he laughed
with some gypsies

the stone fell off his back

some people call this Easter

embryo

without a past
or a future,
the embryo is
everything

without a label,
the embryo is
what?

is abortion possible?
miscarriage?
full term, what's that?

is there really a difference
between embryo and old  man--
under a microscope?
are the atoms really different,
the space between?

the stuff,
the consciousness,
the image is made of?

my dear sweet friend,
transparent,
fleeting thought,
but an image

wherefore art thou, Romeo?
oh Romeo, oh Romeo...
at last!
just an image
planted "so long ago", hah!--
that would be now, too

what am "i", too,
but a masquerade?

all of it
and none of it

sweet lovers,
Love plays a game...
She looks like a tree,
She looks like a girl,
She looks like a squirrel,
She looks like a two ton truck,
a building 26 stories high,
a cawing crow,
a flock of geese,
the whistling wind,
the bell chimes,
and even the alarm clock going off at 6am.

i see why She calls it a song,
why He called it the Song of My Self,

what a sweet persimmon to slip in my ear

juice
is sweet and sticky

i see why
i can love "me"

no future,
no past,
not even
now...now...now...

diversification

diversification
is simply a brother,
a twin,
a branch
of origin

which road will you take
to the store?

a shortcut through the field,

the long way around
to catch a glimpse of manikins
all draped in sparkly gowns,

or would you pass by the zoo
to watch the monkeys in their cages,
or the elephants on the savannah?

branches don't conflict,
they don't war,
they all head upward
in the same direction,
in the same big open sky,
the same vast endless space

plenty of room
for round red tomatoes,
and long, skinny green beans,

blue eyes or brown,
grey and white and black,
silk worms and rattlesnakes,

venom used for anti-venom

your death, my birth

what a game
love plays

what a table
we've been served