Be the Peace, Be the Love

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The wind is loud enough,
Wailing its storms and
scattering its fury
in our midst.
 
The rain is torrential enough,
pounding the earth
long after thirst has
been quenched.
 
The sun is powerful enough
threatening the world
with engulfing flames,
holding back for now.
 
May we learn not to
match storm with storm
torrent with torrent,
fire with fire.
 
May we withstand the storm,
witness the rolling sadness,
Respect heat of fire,
May we be the eye, the heart, the peace. – TS

Dependence Arising

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They call it negative space,
a void so large it takes on
the qualities of fullness,
it draws attention.
The emptiness of form,
the form of emptiness.
And then we think
of opposites and duality,
of what is supposed to be
and what never is.
And then, maybe,
we come to this:
to the recognition
of a beautiful flower,
small, alone, newly fallen,
still in the grips of her vitality,
upon a pavement marked
with the imprints of those
who have made it,
and the many who have
tread upon is surfaces,
and whichever comes
into the mind first,
they are both us,
and they are both not us,
and we are all
dependent on each other. -TS

To Be Love With You

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If I were
coming or going
I would want to do it
exactly like a bird
who knows how
to sing and to call out,
to nest and to take flight
without pondering or doubt.
I would want to do it
like an ant might,
carrying its weight in
sustenance and
nothing more,
working in unison
to build and create,
to protect the colony
and feast on this life
from the grand scope
of our ground.
I would want to do it
holding your hand,
more than okay with
any direction at all
so long as
there are horizons
we are dreaming
about, that we
don’t need to
get to,
moving through
all of this
together. – TS

Our Gorgeous Awake

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I pass hurdles
common and unforeseen
before climbing right in
and soaking in the
lush verdant green.
I inch closer,
hesitant, unsure of
my steps on a land
that has come
hand in hand with
our own existence,
that has long been
waiting for our return.
I am here,
I say softly,
not sure why
she would be listening
anymore,
unsure of my own
heart beating
her thousand pathways
through hurt
to love.
Suddenly I can breathe.
I breathe.
I unfold,
at times achingly slow.
Until the bloom
is magnificent and
full and whole. – TS

The Beauty of Loss

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A memory is not
a hole
or an empty space
creating fissures
in the wind,
anymore than a flower
is its missing petals
that discovered
their time to say
goodbye.
Why is it we look
and regard the world
from a place of
such wholeness,
only to complicate
what is absent,
or no more?
It is the full vitality
of what is
that allows even
for our experience
of loss.
We are always
what is. – TS

Through the Dark We Love

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And then the clouds
dispersed, and the sun
burst forth into day
And then the earth
suckled on spring rains
and buds began to rise
And the sleeping
stretched until every cell
came alive with the new
And the quiet
Remembered their secrets
And shared them with glee
And then we saw
the dark for the light
and the light for the dark
And we laughed.
And held our bellies
And laughed, and laughed. – TS