pure gold

the most hated part of yourself
is
a
diamond

literally,
everything you have ever wanted

only here
is
redemption possible

look at  it,
every particle,
leaving nothing out,

it is the not looking
that causes you to lay it on me, God, every plant, police officer, government official, sister, grandma,  and even newborn baby...

you must look
if you would find peace,
for here is all conflict that exists

buried,
away from the truth.

in the light, you can ask again,
is it really true?

be still,
ask,
wait...

let
the truth
be
known

un curtainty

open mind

that
thought floating through

and who knows
who knows
who knows


what belief
will catch
spark
be given life
action
neon
letters
adrenal rush
steroids
hormones
drool
to
fondle the emotions

turn up the volume
in this steamy
can of worms
laboratory

what is real
what is not

magician
happening

rabbits out of a hat

literally
terror out of thin air

and now
merry tinkling  of bells

dainty
ferocious
jowels

up rising crowds
trains
stampedes
drifting into snow
sifting sand dunes

sculptures of particles

mammoth of spaces

un certainty he calls it

magnificence
another

the forming forming forming

creation
unfolding
now...

so simple

and so it is

that flowers bloom
on their own

timetable

no whip can ever educe a flower

to grace the world


grace is

ever

of its own accord

whiplash,
insanity,
blindness
to the effluence,
to the laughter
bouncing
around 
inside

the troubled mind,
just a flash
of
a
question

and the Answer:

Let there be Light

was everywhere
all around
in that very same instant

honestly,
who would whip God/Reality?

and
think
it
a
real
possibility
unless
he
were...

drunk?

whipping a flower?@!

c'mon!

even a two year old can see that doesn't work....

my puppy always
prefers
a hug
to a whip...

:-)

restitution

restitution
to the unborn baby

who prior to birth
was promised to slavery

owing
just for being--
stealing from the mother
her very blood

this vampirous growth
expecting to be carried around
and fed
and bathed

where does she get off
thinking the world owes her?

restitution
now

for this twisting of baby's hair,
this clamping into chains
the delicate golden petals,
so tender
it brings tears,
so gentle
so beautiful
this lacy song

what's the use of it
if it can't put a meal on the table?

oh the destitution 
of this harsh mother,

the world's a dangerous place,
you better learn it now, kid

no  one is going to look out for you,
you better get that into that thick head of yours

oh,

restitution

now...

your grace
your humble presence
your clarity
your joy
all the gift
the world could ever desire

blessed
so very very blessed
by your presence

wonderland

without the thought,
i am something...


she came to sit upon my lap,
the gift of life,
a baby,
little girl,
curly hair,
tiny toes

she came to swing
a while
back and forth in mind

to show up
as a tulip
so red and yellow and black and scented
in Holland!@?

or Littleton (is it so...?)

ask the Arapaho tribe

ask the stars

ask a two year old

ask Santa.

prior to John Little
whose town was it?

unincorporated,
now incorporated...
we say

tell the dandelions,
the geese,
the rain--
we own you now!

ha ha ha ah

and now
it doesn't rain

and no one wants this desert

no one will pay
to buy a house here
or start a business...

and oh,
it gets so complicated

i forget

she comes to swing,

just swing

for the joy
of it!

hmmm...

here's the error:

you think
what you can't see
isn't there

:-)

so
just admit it,

the only problem is

i am blind.

ask
for another perspective
and perhaps
the lightbulb
will go on...


:-))))

dreamy images

dreamy images
merge
like melting ice cream
and sauce

where does one begin
and the other end?

nowhere
is there
a beginning to one
and and end to the other

chicken and egg
on the same screen,
same piece of fabric--
one concept,
not two

herein
is all pain
undone

you and i
are one concept,
not two

"i"
cannot be
without
"you"

"we"
cannot exist
apart from
the Whole,
God

dreamy images,
truer
than "lie", "life"

leaf, that crinkles and "dies"/is born
into soil,
circle ulates
into tree roots

literally

sucked up into tree
flowing upward
upward
upward
outward
to end of branch
bud
new

leaf!
never left

leaf,

not a "leaf"
after all, is it?

who would call a river of life,
a leaving of it?

only an ancient story, dear one,
i believed in Santa
because I wanted to...

he brings lots of presents....

what does my belief in separation
and death bring me?

what sack of goodies
am i dying for?

happy holy days...
time
to rest,

to ask...

to make room

at the inner space...

it is your room at the inn

your room,
at the Inn