The Sun, Which …

the sun

which never

stops giving

without asking

why …

sun

Advertisements

Gazing the Shadow

dscf4717

sometimes we wonder
about the shadows
 
the carelessness and
the whimsy of their reign
 
the way they cast a pall
of darkness yet move
 
so freely, appearing to dance
as they vibrate free of gravity’s
 
constraints, hardly tethered,
at all, to the plodding weight
 
of us, who birth the shadow long.
sometimes i want to free myself
 
of me, to freeze spacetime and
shed my contours, flatten and expand
 
as i lie down, right on top of my
shadow, no longer burdened with
 
the pulses and streams and biology
that catch in the light just so, and be
 
naked, and be with all that brilliant
sun without getting seared, and be
 
with the darkness without the fear,
and soak it up for holy reckoning
 
our shadows don’t need a chance
to play, but they do. may we dance
 
with our shadows, learn from their
lightness just how free we can be
 
when we enter the darkness
and truly learn how to see. – TS

The Tree on the Hill

dscf7976

if i could hold you
the way that tree does
on the perfect round hill
that seems always to
be in sunshine
its roots bare above
ground, oh, her arms,
offering themselves
in support, and there is
no effort in her generosity
and her generosity
is utterly boundless.
the tears i have shed
under the awning of her
the soothing she has given
she is hundreds of years old
I wonder who else has
breathed and heaved with her
in this country filled with
gods for her
now, hidden by the road
she is a miracle and discovery
witness to one civilization upon next
but she is the castle in the sky,
she will love, and persist. – TS

The Unity of Seeing and Hearing

dscf4706

i can’t always see it,
the array, the splendor,
for the thoughts that
wrap me in a bubble
of my own making,
for the worries that
know well how to make
clouds of a clear world.
 
i can’t always hear it
the melodious song
for the sound of my
own voice casting
sure things into doubt,
for the loud clap of
negativity i have not
learned to keep at bay.
 
but it is here.
it is always here around
me, and inside me,
a wrapping of sweet,
sweet senses
and i am here with
all of this, with the
pure notion of unity. – TS

The Wind Knows

DSCF5882.jpg

the wind knows it
without pausing for
a million years,
a hollow shell of
itself, in search of it.
where does the wind
come from?
it always seems to
have somewhere
to go. it seems to
encompass the
very best parts
of direction.
i often long to be
submerged in the
ocean’s depths,
surrounded by all
that subterranean life,
defying gravity
with an ephemeral grace.
but it is the wind
that tugs at the
heart of me
as it rustles up
what has been
long asleep,
imbuing me with
the magic of
the free, and
making promises
i know it can keep.
I will dance in the
wind and let it
carry me home. – TS

As A Child Would

dscf3860

if we can dress our
wounds with love,
and not understanding
what that means,
adopting the curiosity
of a child, unafraid,
ready to explore
their edges and borders,
ready to slide in
to find their story
of origination,
ready to embody
the whole being
of which the
wounds are a small
part … watching
them grow smaller
in our spirit of
implicit acceptance
and exuberant play. – TS