Serpents

Let all the serpents come home,
All the miserable sinners,
the frightened child in the night
having bad dreams

Let her climb into bed with you,
Every snake,
come home
to her mother

Home,
under the warm covers,
the kind heart,
Mother's Love

Let her relax
in your Safety

the ambassador

it just arose and arose and arose
like a scarf being pulled out of a magician's hat

until she fell
silent

and in the silence
faded away

then the Madame knocked
again on the door,
the big hair,
the big smile,
the painted lips,
the bold glow,
in her red blazer

there was nothing to fear about her
now

she was an ambassador,
she brought all the foreign parts
to the fore,

no need to go traveling
to meet the strangest,
the estranged,
parts of yourself.

just sit

and listen

bowstring

like the bowstring
stretching, stretching, stretching,
there is no strain

what use a bowstring
unstrung,
lying limp in a pile?

we are meant to stretch
out
longer,

that when the love
propelled great distances
lands in foreign soil

it is no mistake;
it is a great kiss,

hello, sweetheart,
I am yours

Kindness

Kindness
is an ocean.

She is not
in short supply.

There are no strings attached
to kindness.

No, not strings attached,
but joining, embracing, supporting...

loving care,
no separation,
nature

Kindness is an ocean.

No loss
ever.

She watched

She watched as her words
got run over by cars
and trucks,
flattened on the wet pavement,
and flowed down gutters
into the sewer.

She watched as the itty bitty words
and the gargantuan words all
seemed to evaporate,
vaporize
into mist,
were recycled
and rained again and again and again,
sometimes even piling up
waiting to be read...

but it all boiled down to
no thing,

just music
and squiggles,

jiggles,

and giggles

I can

“I can”

and the gasoline flows...
wings...
breath...

before I notice
it is happening.

“I can’t”

and the train is off the track
in the ditch
unable to see how it will ever
move over such rocky terrain.

What a magician!
mind

believe it and you see it,
even though it is not there

now watch the caterpillar
walk straight up the wall,
the fly rest
upside down…
on the ceiling

what an amazing show

that isn't

what if

what if
all people wore masks,
a simple white veil,
and the sound of their voice
was but one,
your own,

and all people laughed exactly like you
and thought as you do,
even believed as you do,

what if
you could clearly see that?