Stilettos

Stiletto heels don't really make you taller.

Stature is always a thing of the past,
for you have to feel shorter than another--
less than your Self--
to want to fake it.

The grass doesn't long
to be a fence,
and yet bamboo seems
to be both.

It happens or it doesn't.

Roller skates are not square,
and boxes mostly aren't round.

Corners are perfect where they are,
and perfectly absent where they are not.

Just try to stack marbles!
(no wonder we are discontent
and tired)

No one needs stilettos
to spin the finest silk
the world has ever known.

i am
that I Am.

you, sir

you, Sir,
are you the costume you wear?

and the reply is always
"no, dear maid, no."

I haven't quite ever
turned into this suit of clothes
nor the hat upon my head,
nor the shoes--
though there are many--

nor the title--
not Mr. or Mrs. or Ms
or Dr. or sister

nor the paper upon my wall--
not even the one that says I
was "born".

what does it say
but some numbers
and names?

but who can name what
never was
before?

without a clue?

on one's first breath?

upon "arrival"
and perhaps not even that,
for I haven't yet
any kind of hat.

perhaps not a thing
at all,
nor the space between,

perhaps the Unknown,
no mind can digest nor dissect,
not that, not that, not that

not that.

the maid

with bended hands did break
the brawn of morn
on breath's first take,

the moth of "savior"
in the closet,
the dust of ancient beliefs on the sill

'twas but the maid,
the lowest servant
who the Highest
in the lowest places
found

the cleaning lady,
after all,
turned out to be
the heroine,

a sparkling window,
to see,
to see!

Backseat

Oh the relief! to appreciate.

What does a "soldier" mean to you?

Isn't it just a man (or woman),
a human being,
a body?

Or is it?
Are you that?
Then surely that IS what you see.

And what of the depth, the Limitless?

Does this one not need this journey,
this experience,

to burn alive--
to ask the deepest questions,
to be on the front lines--
to see the effects of his beliefs
and actions?

Perhaps he needs to see
"carnage"

to turn around.

Perhaps no teacher
but Life Itself
will do,
in this moment,
in this place,
for this one.

Would you prefer...
a delay
in her path?

Do you really claim
to know,
to have,
to offer,
a mightier path?

Love will out

Love will out,
for She never has aborted.

Only where you play
at binding Love
do you hurt.

What tremendous effort
it takes to fight.

Just watch Love
at your back
as you march to war,
enfolding you in Her Arms,
dear One,
and your "enemy", too.

Salt and peper
are both gifts.

Feel the gratitude.

Watch your Heart's door
swing wide open.

You can only pretend
you are not Love
for so long.

Love will out,
for She never
has aborted.

Still attached/One.
No isolation possible.
Love

maiden voyage

maiden voyage

without past,
the cleanest air,
the clearest view

without a label,
forever maiden,
forever un-made

your "voice"
oh my darling

who cares the words
that of This
seem to shape?

God,
"the""sound""of""the""human""voice"

Roll over, Beethoven.

Maiden Voyage.

"thir-teen"

have you ever heard such a beautiful sound?

sound?