there are moments
when craving surges
inside me
brain clawing
longing to
be known
loved, remembered
forgetting
my still center
quiet that
always is
Category: Poetry
Accumulating Silence
if anybody asks
I tell them that
each month
I add one minute
of meditating
to my days
accumulating silence
like pennies in a jar
until the day when I’m
speech less
spirit full
Of Time and the Kite
when my daughter was young we flew a kite
from her wooden deck, bedroom balcony
she held the string, I watched wind
invisible thing
nearby leaves rustling, flapping
nylon snapping, waiting for release
to soar or sink, ever the question
on a day such as this
the two of us standing there wondering
what does it mean to fly away?
I let go, her twine wriggled through fingers
up and up it went
sun stopped for seconds
our fabric patch covering time
Loving-Kindness Meditation
may I be peaceful and loving
may you be peaceful and loving
a pebble dropped in still water
ever-widening circles
love and kindness spreading
our compassion becoming the world
Forgiveness
I say sorry
you say sorry
simple, forgiveness
should be
Thinking of You
our molecules across time
touching memory
as if we could love each other
forever
never
always
No Reply
when they don’t return your email
text message sent with no reply
electronic void, part person
part nothing, the nothing of
no response, happens all the time
these days
correspondence like lipstick
optional
avoidance, overload
too many messages
yours got buried in
google’s grave
they cared, no they didn’t
did they miss it? miss me?
do I exist? was I rejected?
I could call, but why?
Am Already
inner peace, two words
all I really want
not my name in The New Yorker
or 500,000 Twitter followers
I don’t want to be known by all
or viewed on Instagram
smiling at the masses
you can have your fame
I’ll take my meditation, my breath
my compassion growing every day
away from striving to become
why bother?
when I am already
Wait for the Rain
I’m convinced they only arrive
when they want to, the poems
don’t like furrowed brows
concentrating on making art
as if it is all effort
like raindrops falling to ground
no choice, this water, these lines
wait for the clouds
Do We Really Die?
death, the root fear
where it all ends
this we may believe
with sobbing and with tears
but they all went before us
and they will all go after, and
on and on, like
sunshine, rain, and sunshine
who really knows
what is lost
what is found
beyond the now and here
