Can We, Together?

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Will you hold me when I ache,
when the day that changed the world
nears its sweet dusky end?
I thought I could do it alone,
stand here in the face of
these bald transmutations,
chest thrust out
like the immutable warrior
I would like it to be,
and hold my gaze,
and reach with ease
to the song inside me
that echoes the great one harmony.
Mistaking myself for one of us, I feel
I would like to be a tree for birds,
water, sun and rain for trees,
I would like to be the mountain
that appears to need nothing at all
as though it arose from
its own history
we can neither approach nor grasp.
The parts that are broken inside
aim for the top of the mountain
(and I’ll never make it this way)
instead of circling around it,
maybe barefoot, maybe on my knees,
where there are those who are
always ready to take me
as one of their own.
Before I forget again, I ask,
Will you guide my hand into yours?
Can we ache and burn
and laugh and dance together?
 
– TS
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Here in You: A Poem

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It is always a
coming home,
a remembering,
the air whip thin
and sparkling
a sundance of
unfiltered joy
the crackling
under the feet
of a whole
cycle of life
preparing for
its journey
down, out,
through,
standing still
no matter
where you are
to find yourself
at the epicenter
of the language
of birdsong,
and you don’t
want to
decipher it
because
you realize
you already
understand.
You know you
are here
in you.
 
– TS

The Power of Sound

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The trick of the eye
that sees what is not mine,
of skin touches what
remains external to me
of a mouth ready to taste
and imbibe from the world,
but then – of the ear that receives sounds
which find their landing in the heart,
filling my body with a shared
vision of our humanity.
I think about this,
and close my eyes
and without sight I can
contemplate what is left of me,
I still my thirst and desire for touch,
but the sounds – they remain,
the soft wisp of breeze, an insect in the throes of life,
the sounds whip through all the hollowed spaces,
cutting into the parts of me that come from behind
generating the possible spaces of our universe.
A picture is a slice of we have seen,
but a sound whispers and rattles,
beckons and haunts and braids our lives together,
and harkens to our ancestors and our unborn children,
and knows nor beginning nor end.
 
– TS

Life is Me

 

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We are not here to hide
behind the veil of our fears,
glimpsing out into the world
as though it is not always
running wildly within us,
as though we are not
part of the bright evolution

We are not here to be
more faint, muted or faded
than the world we balk from
as though we need to be smaller,
or for our actions be less brave
than the the bold expressions
that stir our souls everyday

We are here to sing like the opera
that glitters under our skin,
to dance to the rhythmic cadences
that spring from Earth’s core,
to sculpt our bodies like gold and
feel it rise through us like fire:
This life is ours to claim!

– TS

A Deep Kind of Love

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Of all the ways I am
if I could approach the varied
splendor of even one flower petal
 
Of all the ways I try
if I could forget, for a moment,
that the doing is already done and here
 
Of all the ways I ache
if I could remember, often, nature’s
thunderous power of renewal
 
Of all the ways I love
if my love could sprout full, deep
and harmonious into the world
 
– TS

The Mountain Dreamer

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The Mountain Dreamer
 
The mountain dreamer
trembles in awe
at the majesty
laid out before her
in two dimensions
on a misty morning,
the gradations
of grey and pink,
the cloudless milky sky
keeping her tethered,
still, to the sticky and
tentacled dream world
she is not quite ready
to leave behind.
She, too, casts no shadow,
her feet rest
on dewy ground,
a cow grazes nearby.
As she watches,
the mountain emerges
from the haze,
her shape etches
bold and clear against
the sky of new day.
The mountain dreamer,
still caught between
the parts of yesterday
that cling to her bones,
and the many forked trails
of her tomorrows,
lifts her gaze to the
great heights before her,
contemplating the mountain,
risen from tumult
to tower over the ground,
under the unimaginable
depths of sky,
on top of the world,
but still at the very beginning
of it all.
 
– TS