Petals Fallen in Spring

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Petals fall lush to ground,
not yet dried or decayed,
unsullied by wind, sun, rain,
handfuls of spring snow
tethered still to this life,
where we train our eyes
on what comes before
the last, the spectre of this
dancing alongside our joy.
Beauty gathers everywhere
before we have a chance
to discriminate and fear,
pierces though every want
we might begin to have
for things to be different.
Imbibe before pleasure
divides into pain.
It is here in this space
that miracles are born,
that the ways of seeing,
ways of our sacred being,
outnumber anything
we could possibly know.

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For Our Beloved Lost Ones (After the Shooting), With Love

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For our beloved lost ones …

We are in the hallway,
we have our books, our friends,
and every wild certain hope for the future.
We step through the front doors
and into the hallway,
end in sight, giddy for the outcome,
a turned corner, a new day,
for love, for lovers, for learning.
It is our work to be young,
to shoulder what responsibilities we can,
to live in a world with kindness,
to be protected. To be protected.
We have lost so much.
We have lost almost everything.
The hallways, now, lined with our terror,
the classrooms teaching principles
that are not abided by,
so our lives are torn asunder.
It is our right to be young.
We are taught to trust and obey
in something that is now sick and dying.
It is time to to tear these hallways down
and find what serves,
what is worthy of our belief,
to find a radical starting again.
To plumb the depths oceans
and scale the mountain peaks,
to sit in dark, quiet caves and listen,
to learn our truths for the first time in our young lives,
and believe in them above all else,
and build with love
on the ashes of our beloved departed,
grow flowers where they lie,
honour them every hour of every day,
not stop until what is sick is healed,
be the change that will save the world.

– Tammy Takahashi

 

 

 

Make it So (for Life)

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Make it so,

the way an umbrella shelters

without removing the

experience of rain,

the way the flags flap

in the breeze,

giving away just a little bit

of their colour

with each passing moment,

so that we may pray

through and with them,

and it’s amazing

how long they hang on.

Make it so,

a full, bright, hope-filled

life. Take it all in.

Feel the breath

moving through you.

Know, too, that  the

fading of things

is also a reminder

of the fullest

expression of beauty,

at birth, in life,

and in the passing

of all things.

  • TT

 

 

The Fragile Day of Being

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The stillness of the clouds
On this silver, dewy morning
Betray the truth I try to grasp,
That I won’t always be here,
We won’t always have the chance
To do what has been calling, persistent,
Pulling at our tender,
Yearning unstill hearts.
I fix my eyes on the clouds’ loose edges,
Willing them to change,
to blur into today’s new sky,
Or break away into new formations,
Remembering childhood mornings on the grass
When we’d look up at the tufts of white
And imagine a new, festive cosmos
Of our own making and desires.
This was when
We were going to grow old together,
When there was no thought of not forever.
My body has not turned on me yet,
My mind still arrows in all the directions,
My heart pulses wild with aches and hope.
Life presents itself through and in me
With a vitality I have everything
To be thankful for, and try to honour
With my whole being.
Yet you are not here,
And my understanding will
One day grow dim,
As I continue to dwell in fear
Of everything that will slip away,
Like the fishing boat vanishing downstream,
And the cloud, that, as I look anew,
Might never have existed at all.
 
– TS

Love Never Departed

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Lover of ocean
At home in the sea
Where the light dances
And shimmers like dreams
That wake up the world
 
Your iridescent beauty
Like the sun glinting on waters,
Unites us in radiant oneness
Lifts us with sparkling heart
Loves with a boundless love
 
In grace you glide
Across our crystalline earth
To the depths of the waters,
And with your gift, the spirit of love,
To the very heart of the vast blue sky. – TS

Look at Her

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There is always
somewhere to land.
Look at the red leaf,
effusing life even
fallen from the tree,
marking the passage
of the seasons
in a siren call of
lush vibrant red.
She doesn’t ask for a
better, softer ground.
She doesn’t wonder
why she is not in
the forest that is her
essence and birthright.
Look how stately,
how firm, as last life
ebbs from her veins,
how she becomes
the ground herself,
for another, smaller,
leaf which has flailed,
lighter, more fragile,
in the wind, despite
how green she is,
a story cut
from its source,
a babe far from
her mother’s milk.
May we always
cushion each other
and help provide
precious ground. – TS

We Continue On

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On the other side
of a long
fearful night
there are people
holding hands
and circling the sun,
paying homage
to the passage
of Time,
Resting in the
wonder-filled
ever-now,
where colour
transfixes in
its fading,
and the earth
is supple and
pure to touch
as it greets
the fallen,
the wounded,
and all who
continue on. – TS