Fire Through Me

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There is fire embedded in the rock,
subtle, less mad, buried as potential,
but fire still, capable of burning,
and we may not know how
to draw the fire from the rock,
because the conditions are not ripe
for the fire’s powerful emergence,
or we are not ready, yet, to see it.
I would like to be in perfect stillness,
by the tree or in the mountainside,
where very few would notice me,
and invite my own awareness
of the fire burning through me
as I breathe clear as the wind,
flow deep and strong as the waters,
readying myself to burst into flame,
destroy the unwanted with great love,
and ignite the world with my passion.
 
– Tammy Takahashi
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A Poem for Notre Dame

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In every great plumed tree
lies the coming, naked winter,
each beam of starlight
tells of a past no more.
The stately art of an era
bears out our name, rounds out
the body of our experience,
the effigies stand time still
while leaving us desperate
to climb into the world
where memories come to life.
When a great building dies
it pours madly into the world,
scattered in all the directions,
remnants of a collective dream,
of a the sacred space where
the history of emotion lived,
with all the hushed whispers
and reverential quietude,
the rapture of encountering,
face-to-face, the ripened fruit
of our grandest human hopes
and greatest earned potential.
Every single thing that exists
contains the code of its demise
and we do not know know when,
or how, or by what means
this destruction born of creation
comes to journey’s end,
only that we can bear witness
to all this life in its passing.
 
– Tammy Takahashi

My Peace Anthem Today

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Sometimes life
is just one big plush
nearly impossible blend of
gorgeous sunset hues, yellow too,
gathered not like armies but like trees,
not like missiles but like bamboo shoots,
not like things imprisoned but connected,
not signatures of doom but of wonder,
ready, haven’t we always known it,
to get fire, to be our fire,
to get lit.
 
– tt

Harmonies

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There are times when

my offering is feeble,

When I don’t know

the rhythm of my heart

or where it might

enter it harmonies.

I am sorry. I am sorry.

I carry you inside me

as I take hesitant steps,

adjusting to the light

and finding before me

in perfect unison

petals lacing stems

fiery colors meeting

the sun,

not the slightest

discord among them.

How they breathe.

How effortless it is.

How they offer

the totality of what they are

Without self-consciousness,

shame or pain.

How so much joy

arises from this. – TS