Today, I aspire to be nothing,

and no-one.

I am keenly aware

that none of the ways

I adorn myself bring me any closer

to who I am.

The slow, sweet glide

into the darkness

that, as I wait, fills

with the most splendid

of night’s visitations:

stars, moon, nature’s songs,

which still feel real, and true,

and I feel I am coming closer.

I undress; let my hair down,

I strip myself of words,

of the thoughts that form them.

This is the aspiration:

to rest in the stillness of being,

maybe find unrest at first,

a tremendous discomfort:

I am not who I thought I was.

The whole world, too, changes

as I see myself this way,

as a different self, then no-self.

And as I sit with this new

light of non-being,

I find I am still inhabiting this body,

a most sublime cosmic dust

and I get to dance with the sights,

sounds and textures of this space

we have been given

to play out our own evolution,

and I know that there is nothing

more sacred, or more important

than to tear myself away

from any of the comfortable notions

and face being nothing at all,

feeling with everything in me

how much closer

to the infinite nothing is, than I am.


– Tammy Stone Takahashi



Our Precious Earth


There is a circle we are on,
all of us, through time,
on our own day,
with this sun and moon,
and in our own wayward,
or surefooted way,
it is a thread connecting us,
even as it is overgrown
by layer after layer
of the things
we thought to have made,
grids and tunnels,
elevated passageways,
sky-reaching edifices,
as we are always looking
away from where we are.
Let’s bring the gaze closer,
the distant view
is making is distant
from each other and ourselves,
our bellies never full enough,
we are floating away.
Maybe we can begin to dig,
slowly then fervently,
get at and below and through all this,
back to the weeds
that need our attending too,
because we want to see
the flowers grow.
We want the awe
that will take us back
to our awareness of the circle,
and our joined place on it,
and know that we are once again
veering toward a destination
this not a destination,
but our way through, and up,
and up some more,
the voyage of our transcendence,
which starts here,
with a flower growing
in our precious earth.
– Tammy Stone Takahashi




To make art

of our hands and heart,

resting, finally, where needed

To make love

with the sacred ground

of our unfolding

To make breath

as the earth breathes

her heaves and sighs

To make space

for the seeds of potential

to find their way to light

To make peace

with the past and future

in the terror and splendour of now

To make a home

between life and death

our very place of freedom


– Tammy Stone Takahashi